


Fasten Your Seatbelts

by tiny_septic_box_sam



Series: 10+ Chapter Fics [1]
Category: Jacksepticeye (YouTuber RPF), Markiplier (Youtuber RPF), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: AU, Fluff, M/M, Road Trip, multi-chapter, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-31
Updated: 2015-10-16
Packaged: 2018-04-18 05:16:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 50,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4693460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiny_septic_box_sam/pseuds/tiny_septic_box_sam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mark stood up slowly with a smug smile. “I’ve been thinking…I know how beat up you get about these relationships, yeah?”<br/>Jack gulped. “Uh…yeah, I guess.”<br/>“I mean we both know you beat yourself up over it and always think it’s your fault or something,” Mark said bluntly as he served breakfast.<br/>“Yeah, so? What of it?” Jack said defensively. “I can’t help how I feel.”<br/>“I know that, and I wanna help. I think I might have the cure for your little cycle.” Mark grinned at him conspiratorially.<br/>“And…what is it?” Jack asked warily.<br/>“Two words, my friend.” He paused for dramatic effect, and Jack wanted to kick him in the kneecap. “Road trip.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Getting Out of the Rut

**Author's Note:**

> Based off of this post by genderfluidarya about road trip AUs (somewhat shortened due to length):  
> • driving shitty rental cars and living off of gas station food and goingway too fast down highways with the radio up  
> • alternately: “hell no you cannot survive off of gas station candy I’m taking us to a real restaurant”  
> • getting lost on the way to the restaurant and having to ask for directions at a remote little souvenir shop  
> • going to tourist traps just to buy shitty souvenirs for each other and compete for the most tacky ones.  
> • traveling to super crowded cities and taking a couple of days off just to enjoy the feeling of being lost. driving down winding country roads and opening all the windows because it’s like being found.  
> • which member of your otp wants to go to super sophisticated cities and which one wants to visit the world’s largest ball of yarn?  
> • staying in shitty motels, okay? the kind of creepy-not-quite-real aesthetic of neon lights and soft linen and staying awake all night listening to the other person breathe.  
> • alternately: you literally get the chance to write the scenario where the characters trade off seats during the night and the driver keeps looking at their sleeping companion and getting distracted because of the way the moonlight bounces off of their face and ugh  
> • taking turns deciding on the next destination and characters declaring things like “oh my god, I hate the countryside” but they wind up loving it  
> • car karaoke. someone probably owns the complete collection of disney cds. they probably take it very seriously.  
> • characters who keep making more and more detours because they want it to last forever even though it can’t.

            Losing Lauren felt like a punch in the stomach. This had an awful lot to do with the fact that she actually did punch him in the stomach.

            “ _You_ _jerk_!” she screeched, her fist still clenched around the three gaudy rings she was wearing. “ _How could you do this to me_?!”

            Jack couldn’t answer just yet. It felt like his liver was in his throat. He was doubled over against the bedroom wall, his gut throbbing in pain.

            “ _Answer me_ , _dammit_!” Lauren insisted shrilly. She drew back her fist again.

            “No, don’t!” Jack choked, struggling to stand up straight. “I—I dunno what you want me to say—”

            “I want you to _apologize_ for _fucking me up_!”

            “I’m not fuckin’ you up! I told you what was wrong!” Jack flinched back when she took a threatening step forward.

            “I’ve done _everything_ for you!” she said menacingly. “I’ve done nothing but _love you_ and _make sure you’re okay_! I _don’t deserve this_!”

            “You slept with your roommate’s fuckin’ brother!” Jack shot back indignantly. “I have every right to break—”

            Lauren’s knuckles connected with his stomach again, and Jack hunched over in pain. Damn, for such a tiny girl, she packed a mean punch.

            “It’s _not my fault_!” she screamed. “I hate you! Get the hell out of my room!”

            Jack shuddered, trying not to vomit, and mumbled something similar to “fine.” Clutching his midsection, he stumbled out the door and into the hall.

            He leaned against the door, staring at the other dormitories and wondering if the tenants had heard their fight. It was more than likely they had; the walls weren’t exactly soundproof. Oh, well. Lauren did so much yelling all the goddamn time they were probably used to it by now.

            Jack had known that Lauren was bad news when they first started dating, but he had a bad habit of falling really hard really fast. His friends always advised him against it, especially when he developed feelings for women that were obviously bad news. Lauren definitely fell into that category. For Christ’s sake, her roommate _told_ him that she’d cheated on him, and yet _she_ had the nerve to act like the victim?!

            Feeling both heartsick and physically sick, Jack shuffled slowly down the hall. Sure, Lauren was a total bitch, but he _had_ been in love with her…just like he’d been in love with all the rest. Why for the love of God couldn’t he just make _one relationship_ work?! Or if he couldn’t do that, why didn’t he just quit already? It was exhausting going through the motions: meet a girl, fall in love within forty-eight hours, stay with her for a month or two, somehow fuck up, hit rock bottom, rinse and repeat. Jack shook his head, his stomach still lurching.

            He walked out of the dormitory and out of Lauren’s college campus. He hoped he wouldn’t have to come back anytime soon. Seeing his exes was never a very pretty experience. Jack looked up at the full moon shining overhead. Jack liked the moon. It was big, bright, and beautiful, and normally being outside in the unearthly quiet of late night would make him feel calm. But right now his heart was beating out an anxious samba in his chest, and his eyes were itchy with the unmistakable wrath of tears.

            He didn’t want to go home and cry himself to sleep again, because that got old _very_ fast. Instead, he called the only person that he knew would still be awake at this time of night.

            Mark picked up on the second ring. “Hey man, what’s up?” he asked cheerfully.

            The first thing Jack did was sniffle like a baby. “I-I need someone to talk to,” he whimpered. “Do you have a sec?”

            Mark’s tone changed instantly. “Yeah, sure. Wanna stop by my place? I’ve got beer.”

            “Yeah, yeah, a beer sounds great.” Jack began walking more quickly now that he had a destination. “I’ll be there in ten, okay?”

            “You got it. The door’s open.”

            Jack hung up and made it to his car. He drove quickly down the highway, squeezing his eyes shut until they throbbed every time he suspected he might start to cry.

* * *

            Jack knew the door would be unlocked, so he walked right into the apartment. He could hear the telltale revving engines and profuse swearing and knew his friend was playing _Rocket League_.

            Mark glanced up as Jack appeared in the doorway and paused the game immediately. He stood up, wiping his hands on his pajama pants.

            “Hey,” he said unsurely. “What’s wrong? Is everything okay?”

            Jack shook his head, the corners of his lips twitching. He dropped his keys unceremoniously onto the cluttered coffee table and flopped onto the couch that he’d sat on countless times.

            “Lauren cheated on me, so I dumped her,” he deadpanned.

            Mark sighed with a frown. “Jack…,” he murmured, lowering himself next to him. “I’m really sorry, dude, that sucks…but you had to have seen this coming. I mean, c’mon.”

            “I guess I didn’t,” Jack whispered hopelessly. “I mean yeah, I see it now, but I was…I guess I was just—”

            “In love with her?” Mark finished disapprovingly.

            “Yeah….”

            “Jack, you’re _always_ in love with them.”

            “I know….”

            “You’re just gonna keep getting hurt every time if you keep this up.”

            “I know….”

            “So what’re you gonna do?”

            Jack shrugged one shoulder, staring unseeingly at the TV. “I dunno…maybe become a monk or something?”

            Mark couldn’t help laughing. “ _You_? A monk?”

            Jack blushed a little and looked away, a small smile creeping onto his face despite everything. “Sure, why not? I’d look good bald.”

            “Oh yeah, you’d be so _Vogue_. I bet those shit-brown robes they wear would look _fabulous_ on you.”

            “ _Totally_.” Jack turned a little and struck an exaggerated model pose that made Mark burst into a fit of giggles.

            “You’re so weird,” he said amusedly, and Jack grinned. “Hey, look at that! You’re smiling!”

            “Am not,” Jack fake-pouted, smiling wider.

            “Are too. I see it, it’s right there.” Mark jabbed his finger forward and accidentally grazed Jack’s lips. He jerked back and laughed.

            “Take it easy, there! So where’s this beer you promised me? You can’t invite an Irishman over and not have beer.”

            “Calm down, Connor McLuckycharms, I’ll get your beer.” Mark stood up just as Jack took a playful swipe at him.

            “Don’t be so fuckin’ racist!” the latter chortled while he walked into the kitchen. Jack leaned forward and grabbed Mark’s player two controller, quitting the A.I. game and opening up multiplayer. Mark returned with a Miller Lite in each hand.

            “Yeah, sure, you can play. Thanks for asking,” he cracked. Jack laughed a little.

            “Like you would’ve said no,” he responded flippantly, starting the game. He and Mark faced off on opposite teams online. A bottle of beer and many stupid jokes later, Mark won thanks to a particularly gifted twelve-year-old on his team, which sparked a debate on whether or not Mark had “skillz”.

            “It was fuckin’ beginner’s luck!” Jack asserted over and over while Mark laughed in his face.

            “Who you callin’ a beginner, boy?! I kicked your _ass_!”

            “Whatever, you’re a cheater,” Jack laughed. The word _cheater_ reminded him of why he was over in the first place, and his smile was instantly gone.

            Mark sighed, noticing the change. “Jack, come on. She wasn’t worth it.”

            “So what? She still _meant_ something to me.”

            “This happens _every time_ you get feelings for someone.”

            “Don’t you think I know that?” Jack snapped. “If I could stop myself from doing this, don’t you think I would?”

            Mark sighed and shrugged. “What do I know, Jack? I just don’t know how to help you without telling you that this needs to stop.”

            Jack nodded and looked away, staring into his mostly-empty bottle. He tipped back and sucked the dregs of alcohol out of the bottom, letting them burn his throat with ease. “But I already know that. I’m not lookin’ for advice. I just….”

            Mark stared at him intensely. “You just what?”

            Jack swallowed, his eyes still downcast. “I just…I dunno. I wanna just _forget_ for a while. I hate always goin’ through these motions. Nothin’ ever changes. I can’t win. I dunno…I’m not makin’ any sense, am I?”

            “You sort of are. You wanna get out of here for a while or something?”

            “I guess so.”

            “Where’s ‘here’, exactly?”

            “Pfft, I dunno dude. This general area or somethin’? Just away from all the dumb shit that I’ve done would be enough for me.”

            “So go on vacation or something. Go back to Ireland for a week.”

            Jack shook his head. “That wouldn’t help. I’d just take all my stupidity with me.” Lord knew he’d probably fall in love with some redheaded Irish girl that was fucking her cable guy or something. “Not to mention I’m broke like always.”

            Mark half-smiled. “Hey,” he said softly, “why not stay the night tonight? You can sleep on my couch.”

            Jack smiled at him gratefully. “You don’t mind?” he assured himself, even though he’d done it countless times before and knew it would be okay.

            “Nope, not a bit. I don’t have any plans tomorrow anyway.”

            Jack yawned, setting his bottle aside. “Thanks, Mark. You’re a good friend.”

            “I know. I’m the best, aren’t I?”

            “I dunno if I’d go _that_ far.” Jack smiled cheekily as he settled more comfortably into the couch. “Wanna play one more game before bed?”

            Mark agreed, and his team won again because the same twelve-year-old returned for another round. Jack became fed up with _Rocket League_ ’s “unfair system of choosing superhuman players to fight alongside total fuckin’ idiots” and decided to turn in. Mark got him a cover and turned out the lights, going to his room to prepare for bed.

            But he didn’t go to bed right away, or even within the next hour. Instead, he dragged his dusty old suitcases out from under the bed and began to scheme.

* * *

            When Jack awoke that morning, he expected to have to rustle up some breakfast for himself. Mark had always been a later sleeper than him. So when he walked into the kitchen looking for something to eat, he practically jumped out of his skin when a chipper voice called, “Mornin’!”

            Jack whirled around with a scream halfway up his throat and saw Mark sitting serenely at the kitchen table with a mug of coffee in his hands. He breathed out heavily.

            “ _Jesus_! You gave me a fuckin’ heart attack!” He laughed a little, trying to calm down. “What’re you doin’ up so early?”

            Mark stood up slowly with a smug smile. “I’ve been thinking….”

            “Thinkin’? _You_? I don’t buy it.”

            “Yeah, I know, it’s so crazy.” Mark reached into the cabinet and pulled out some Cinnamon Toast Crunch. He poured bowls for the both of them. “But listen, I know how beat up you get about these relationships, yeah?”

            Jack gulped, his smile lessening. “Uh…yeah, I guess.”

            “I mean we both know you beat yourself up over it and always think it’s your fault or something,” Mark said bluntly as he served breakfast. He beckoned for Jack to join him.

            “Yeah, so? What of it?” Jack said defensively as he sat down and dug in. “I can’t help how I feel.”

            “I know that, and I wanna help. I think I might have the cure for your little cycle.” Mark grinned at him conspiratorially.

            “And…what is it?” Jack asked warily.

            “Two words, my friend.” He paused for dramatic effect, and Jack wanted to kick him in the kneecap. “ _Road trip_.”

            Jack continued to stare at him for a minute or two and waited for him to say he was joking, but Mark just kept smiling like he was a huge genius. Jack spluttered into laughter.

            “A _road trip_?! Are you crazy?”

            “C’mon, it’ll be fun! Just the two of us, gas station food, the world’s largest ball of twine….”

            “That sounds so lame!”

            “Lamer than laying around your apartment all day wondering why you always end up alone?”

            “Hey now, that’s a little harsh,” Jack countered, mostly because it was right on the money. He stirred his cereal restlessly. “I dunno, Mark, I don’t think it’ll really help….”

            “Why not? You said you wanted to get away from here for a while. What better way than a road trip?”

            “I didn’t say I wanna get away from _here_. I just said I wanted to get away from _it all_.”

            “How is that any less arbitrary?”

            Jack laughed a little. “I have no idea, man.” He looked up at Mark and tried to gauge his thoughts. He continued to smile like a maniac. “Are you really serious about this?”

            “Totally! We could just drive for a while, see some sights, drink cheap beer, and come back whenever we’re ready.”

            “What about work?”

            “I work from home. It won’t be an issue if I bring my laptop.”

            “What about _me_?”

            “Aren’t you between jobs right now?”

            Jack had to admit he was. His last position had been seasonal and ended a few days ago. He hated his useless major more with each passing day.

            “It means I can’t pay for anythin’, though.”

            “You can help out here and there. It’s not a problem. This isn’t gonna be an expensive adventure anyway.”

            Jack sighed and drummed his fingers thoughtfully. The more he thought about the offer, the more tempting it became. It would be getting out of the rut for a while, which could only be good, because he was tired of being stuck in the same emotionally draining cycle day after day. Plus he’d be with Mark, who he’d always trusted, even when his ideas turned out to be fruitless or dumb.

            “So when do you wanna leave?” Jack asked, resigning himself to his fate.

            Mark’s face lit up. “You really wanna do it?! Great, I was afraid you’d say no!” Mark shoveled down the rest of his food. “Today, if you want. I’ve got all my shit packed. We can swing by your place to get some clothes and stuff and then we can head out.”

            “Head out to _where_?” Jack demanded, both amused and concerned.

            “Anywhere! I have a sort of rough plan laid out. We’ll talk about it on the way, okay?”

            “‘Rough plan?!’” Jack hurried after Mark, who had basically sprinted into his room to get his suitcases out. “Mark, wait! Where the hell are we going?! We can’t just _leave_!”

            “Sure we can! It’s called adventure!” Mark spun and grinned at Jack in a way that made him fear for his safety. “No more plans, no more ruts! It’ll be fun!”

            “Is this even a survivable plan?!”

            Mark laughed. He walked forward and grabbed Jack’s shoulders, shaking him lightly in a way that was kind of endearing and kind of annoying.

            “C’mon, dude, don’t you trust me?” he insisted good-naturedly. “You know I wouldn’t steer you wrong.”

            “Maybe not on purpose,” Jack defied, but he rolled his eyes with a smile. “ _Fine_ , let’s just go. But if I die I’m _totally_ gonna come back and haunt your ass.”

            “Good, I’ll need the company.” Mark winked and turned around to grab his bags. “I’m parked out back. Follow me.”

            Jack trailed after him as they walked out into the hall and rode the elevator to the parking lot. His heart began to beat out a nervous rhythm in his chest. Was he really just going to hoof it out into the middle of nowhere with no reason or destination? What kind of person did he think he was?!

            He glanced at Mark, who was practically bouncing off the walls with excitement, and shrugged inwardly.

            _Ah, well_ , he thought. _Not like I can let him down._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YAY NEW FIC!
> 
> So I'm kind of going into this one completely blind. I have a very hazy idea of how I want the story to progress, but most of it's just gonna be me planning by the chapter and hoping it doesn't lose direction completely. I don't normally like writing with no preplanning, but hey, Personal Information was written that way and it's the most popular piece I've written. SO WE'RE JUST GONNA WING IT!!!
> 
> Comments and constructive criticism are always appreciated! Just please be polite. :)


	2. So Hetero

            “So do we even know where we’re _going_?”

            Mark was driving while Jack reclined in his passenger seat, watching the blur of L.A. skyscrapers go by. He didn’t especially love the city—he’d been raised in the country and still had an affinity for it—but it was mesmerizing to drive through it sometimes.

            “Eh, it’s a plan-ish…thing,” Mark replied noncommittally.

            “What do you mean?”

            “I have a destination in mind, but not necessarily the stops we’ll make along the way.”

            “Where’re we goin’, anyway?”

            “A place I’ve always wanted to go,” Mark said with faux-reverence. “ _Niagara Falls_.”

            Jack waited a few moments for him to say he was joking, but he didn’t. He burst out laughing. “Wait, are you _serious_?!”

            “Sure I’m serious! Why’s that so funny?” Mark demanded.

            “Because it’s a _honeymoon destination_!”

            “So what?! Can’t a couple of dudes just go out and enjoy a nice waterfall?”

            “Oh yeah, _totally_. It’ll be so hetero.”

            That startled a laugh out of Mark. “Nothing if not totally platonic,” he joked along.

            Jack glanced about the car. They’d stopped by his apartment to pick up his stuff. He’d packed all kinds of different clothes, since he didn’t know how far they’d be going or what climates they’d encounter. He hoped they’d be able to stop at a laundromat or something if need be.

            “Can I turn on the radio?” he asked suddenly. In every film he’d seen with a road trip sequence, they’d had some kind of music playing.

            “Sure, it’s all yours.”

            He turned it on and searched for a good song. It was all either ads or preppy, over-autotuned singers over synth beats. Jack sighed.

            “I wish I’d brought my CD’s,” he mourned.

            “Why not plug in your phone?” Mark suggested.

            “Dude, I’m _broke_. It’s a flip phone.”

            “Oh my _God_ , what kind?”

            “Fuck if I know. Somethin’ I bought on eBay.” He pulled it out of his pocket. “Looks like Verizon…it’s cheap as hell and only works half the time.”

            Mark laughed. “Damn, that’s such a flashback.” He sighed. “Well, I don’t have any music on my phone, so I guess we’re fucked.”

            “Why not? Don’t you have an iPhone?”

            “Yeah, but I had to clear it to save memory space.”

            “That’s stupid.”

            There was a beat of comfortable silence before Mark asked, “You ever been on a road trip, Jack?”

            “Nah, not really. My family wasn’t really the travelin’ type.” Jack leaned against the window, staring out at the landscape. “We took vacations sometimes, but they were always pretty close to home.”

            “So you’ve never been on, like, one big long road trip with your friends or anything?”

            “For that I’d need friends,” Jack snorted.

            “Aw, c’mon, you have friends.”

            “Nothin’ but you, buddy.” Jack clapped him on the shoulder like it was a joke, but it was honestly pretty true. He had about the same luck with friends as he did women.

            Mark smiled at him a little. “Well that kinda sucks. Anybody’d be lucky to be your friend.”

            Jack felt his cheeks grow inexplicably warm. “Thanks. That’s a lie, but thanks.”

            “Oh, just take a compliment, would you?”

            “ _Never_.”

* * *

            About an hour into driving, Mark and Jack decided they couldn’t take another replay of “Watch Me Whip,” so they pulled into a gas station.

            “Let’s pick up some snacks for later,” Mark proposed. “It’ll save us a little money, which would make me very happy.”

            “How much money d’you think we’re gonna drop on this trip?” Jack asked as he stepped out of the car. It felt good to stretch his legs. They were on the outskirts of L.A. now, the skyscrapers just beginning to recede into the distance. It felt somewhat surreal to be out this far. Jack rarely strayed far from his apartment.

            “I dunno, probably a lot. Niagara is a long way away.” Mark led the way into the store, where the clerk glanced up at them from her trashy magazine and seemed to grimace.

            Jack glanced into the snack aisles. Most of the good stuff had already been taken. “What should I get?” he asked.

            Mark stared at the sparse selection. “Uh…here, these aren’t too bad.” He handed him a baggie of Jack Link’s Turkey Jerky and picked out some off-brand potato chips for himself.

            Jack stared dubiously at the bag. “Why can’t I have real _beef_ jerky?” he whined.

            “Hey, if you see any, go right ahead and pick ‘em out.”

            Jack didn’t. He resigned himself to his lean-meat fate, took another bag, and grabbed a few cans of Red Bull as well. Mark raised an eyebrow at him.

            “Eating healthy, I see.”

            “Yup. My body is a temple.”

            “Clearly. I can see you’ve been working out.”

            Jack flexed a nonexistent muscle. “Like ‘em? I’ve been workin’ on my biceps for ages.”

            They walked up to the counter. Jack glanced down and saw a collection of CDs for sale, among them a karaoke track. He glanced at the cover, and a slow grin spread across his face.

            “Mark, I have an idea.”

            “What is it?” he asked distractedly while he hunted for spare change.

            Jack tossed the CD onto the counter. “Better this than the radio garbage, amiright?”

            Mark glanced at the purchase and began to laugh. “Dude, you can’t be serious.”

            “C’mon! It’s only, like, five bucks.”

            “ _Fine_ , if it means that much to you.” He nodded at the cashier, who gave him a look like she wanted nothing more than to slit his throat as she slipped it into their bag.

            They returned to the car with their healthy dinners and began feasting as Mark continued back onto the route. Jack slipped the CD in and took a bite of turkey jerky, prepared for the worst.

            His face lit up in surprise. “Holy shit! These are _really good_!”

            “Seriously?! Well good, thank God.”

            “Dear Jesus, these are _delicious_.” Jack grabbed a handful and seemingly inhaled it whole as the first song began to play.

            Mark glanced at him, chuckling. “Dude, please chew your food. I’m not gonna give you the Heimlich while driving.”

            “What about mouth-to-mouth?” Jack invited seductively. Mark rolled his eyes.

            “Maybe later, boo-boo.”

            The opening song began to hammer out a drumbeat, and Mark’s eyes lit up. “Oh my God, _I know this one_.”

            “Good, sing it with me, ‘cause I don’t have it memorized,” Jack laughed.

            Mark immediately slipped into full-performance mode, which Jack found instantly hilarious.

            “ _LET’S GET DOWN TO BUSINESS_ ,” he asserted in a shockingly deep voice. “ _TO DEFEAT…THE HUNS_.”

            Jack chimed in. “ _Did they send me daughters when I asked for sons_?!”

            “ _YOU’RE THE SADDEST BUNCH I’VE EVER MET—_ ”

            “ _But you can bet before we’re through…_ ”

            “ _MISTER I’LL MAKE A MAN—_ ”

            “ _OUT OF YOU!_ ” It became a shouting match at the end, leaving both men laughing.

            “I could totally be Shang,” Mark preened, and Jack shook his head.

            “Nothing if not meek and modest.”

            “Shut up, Mushu.”

            “Hey! Why am _I_ the teeny-tiny dragon?”

            “Well, you’ve got a big mouth for starters, and you’ve got a teeny-tiny-itsy-bitsy—”

            “Hey, watch it! How the hell would you know?!”

            “It’s all in the personality,” Mark avowed with a laugh. Jack rolled his eyes.

            The second verse began to play, and Mark launched once again into his belting performance behind the wheel. Jack let him have it, content to funnel a few more strips of turkey bacon into his mouth and watch his friend make a hilarious fool of himself while they sped down the highway.

            _This is actually kinda nice_ , he reflected. He hadn’t really expected a whole lot from this trip, because really, what could driving do for his broken heart? But spending so much time joking and teasing with Mark had almost completely taken Lauren off of his mind. This was just the kind of medicine he’d needed. Getting out of his rut, out into the wilderness (well, the road anyway), laughing at his best friend…it was liberating.

            Plus, Mark made good company. He tipped his head back and belted a long note horribly, and Jack burst into laughter.

            “Oh God, dude, you suck!”

            “I do not! I’m totally Broadway-ready.”

            “You think so, do you?”

            “Yeah, it’s actually my backup plan if this whole web design thing falls through.”

            “Sounds pretty likely to me.” Jack finished off his first bag of turkey jerky and tore open another one. “Damn, these things taste like heaven.”

            “Lemme try one,” Mark insisted suddenly. Jack shrugged and held out the bag. “No dude, I’m driving. You gotta feed one to me.”

            Jack rolled his eyes. “So hetero,” he mumbled, but obediently reached into the bag and pulled out a piece for Mark. The latter leaned forward and bit down on the jerky, his lips brushing over Jack’s fingertips. He jerked his hand back and surprised the both of them.

            “What, did I shock you or something?” Mark asked around the jerky.

            “Yeah, I guess,” Jack replied, just as confused as he was. He wiped his hand off on his jeans and wondered what the weird adrenaline spike was all about.

            “Eh, they’re not bad,” Mark said disinterestedly, looking back at the road.

            “ _I_ think they taste like heaven.” Jack ate six more in a single mouthful.

            “Dude, what did I _just say_?”

            “Shut up! Maybe I want you to give me mouth to mouth!”

            “Be careful what you wish for,” Mark whispered, and finished it off with an exaggerated wink. Jack laughed, rolling his eyes, and stared at the receding skyline of L.A. as they ultimately left it behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UGH I DON'T REALLY LIKE THIS CHAPTER BUT HERE YOU GO
> 
> I guess to me it just feels like boring filler, but hey it's fluff and it's funny and it's buildup that I need so what-the-fuck-ever amiright. I promise the story will pick up. I have a few moments that I want to hit, but again, I'm kind of rushing in blind. It's proving to be a bit more stressful than I thought. God dammit, I hope I don't completely ruin this fic...*sits in corner and bites fingernails*
> 
> Comments and constructive criticism are always appreciated! Just be polite! :D


	3. The Legality of Smacking Bitches Around

            They drove for another hour or so as the sun began to set. Along the way, they sang along to interesting selections such as _Under the Sea_ , _Circle of Life_ , _A Whole New World_ , and _Colors of the Wind_. Neither of them had realized how few lyrics they actually knew to these songs until they found themselves mumbling along to most of the lyrics while laughing hysterically.

            “All right,” Mark said with finality, shutting the radio off around nine o’clock. “We gotta find a motel. Pick the one that looks the least like we might get mugged at.”

            Jack shook his head and stared out the window at the passing fast food joints and roach motels. “Uh…that one looks somewhat sanitary,” he offered, pointing at a nearby Super 8. At least all of its lights were on and the parking lot was halfway full.

            Mark pulled in and parked near the entrance. “Grab my laptop would you please?” he asked while he went to the back and grabbed their duffels.

            “I can carry mine,” Jack offered, grabbing the laptop and hurrying after him. Mark shook his head.

            “I don’t mind. C’mon, let’s check in.” They went up to the desk and booked a cheap room from a very tired receptionist, then as soon as they walked in Jack set down the laptop and flopped face-first onto a bed.

            “This one’s mine,” he declared, his voice muffled by the comforter. Mark chuckled.

            “Fine by me.” He got comfy in the second one and opened up his laptop. He pulled up Google Maps and began surveying a map of the U.S. “C’mere, we need to figure out where we wanna stop.”

            Jack sat up. “What happened to wingin’ it?” He sat next to Mark, the old mattress sagging under their combined weight.

            “Well we gotta have _some_ clue of where we wanna go, especially if it’s expensive and we need to ration money.” Mark traced the screen with his fingertip. “So here’s where _we_ are…and there’s where Niagara is.”

            Jack whistled. “That’s fuckin’ _far_.” It was a completely cross-country drive. “How long’ll that take us?”

            “Uh…it takes five days if you drive it straight, I think,” Mark answered, “but we’re not doing that. So I’ll guess about two…two-and-a-half weeks.” He began pointing out things on the map. “There’s Las Vegas. We’ll pass it when we drive through Nevada, so we’ve _gotta_ go there.”

            Jack laughed. “You wanna go _gamblin_ ’?”

            “Yeah, sure! I’ve never been. I keep meaning to go, but I haven’t exactly had a bachelor party or any other reason to stop through.” Mark’s eyes flicked about the screen. “We’re also gonna pass Chicago and NYC, so we need to see those, too.”

            “All right, sounds good. I don’t wanna just see all cities though. I _live_ in a city.”

            Mark grinned at him impishly. “You wanna get back to your ol’ country Irishman roots, huh?” he jested. Jack shoved his shoulder, laughing.

            “C’mon, I can’t be the only one.”

            “Hate to break it to you, but I’m not a big country boy.” Mark clicked around. “We can go see the Grand Canyon in Arizona. It’s not far from Vegas.”

            Jack grinned. “Yeah, sign me up!” he declared. “That’d be cool to see.”

            “Okay, sounds good…we’ve still got all this empty space between Arizona and Illinois.”

            “Google some shit to do. I don’t know enough about American geography to give you any ideas.” Jack reclined in the bed and stared up at the water-stained ceiling, breathing deeply. He was starting to feel pretty tired.

            “Fine, I’ll just do _all_ the work then.” Mark clicked around online silently for a few minutes, during which time Jack closed his eyes and came close to falling asleep. Mark jarred him awake.

            “We could go to the Rocky Mountain National Park in Colorado,” he suggested while Jack sat up slowly. “Could be fun.”

            Jack shrugged. “Sounds sorta lame,” he said, but he was half-smiling. “Hell, let’s do it anyway. Might as well get it over with.”

            “Thank you for your enthusiasm,” Mark half-grumbled. “We can also go to St. Louis and see the arch. You know what I’m talking about?”

            “ _Yes_ , Mark. I’m not completely stupid you know,” Jack laughed. It occurred to him vaguely that he was scared of heights, but he was too tired to really consider it as a problem. “Anythin’ else?”

            “Nah, that’s all I got.” Mark closed his laptop and shrugged casually. “We can just wing it through Kansas.”

            “Whatever you say, dude.” Jack stood up and yawned. “I’m beat. You mind if I go ahead to bed?”

            “Nah, go for it. I’m tired too.” Mark kicked off his shoes and climbed under the covers fully clothed, switching off the light. The glow of the moon through the window offered pale, ghostly illumination as Mark turned over and mumbled “goodnight” before falling asleep almost instantly.

            Jack disrobed and fell into bed wearing a T-shirt and boxers. He tried to make do with the flat pillows and slightly stiff sheets. He turned over and stared at Mark, rolled away from him, breathing evenly in and out. The experience struck him as profoundly odd, which he wasn’t expecting. He’d slept over with Mark countless times. Sure, it had always been in separate rooms, but how much different was this anyway? It sure felt different.

            Mark rolled over in his sleep, and Jack noticed with some amusement that he hadn’t taken off his glasses. Hesitantly, he tiptoed out of bed and knelt down in front of him, making as little noise as possible. It was kind of awkward to remove his glasses for him, but he didn’t want him to wake up tomorrow with them cracked on the floor.

            Jack pinched the side of one lens and slid them off slowly, trying his best not to wake Mark. Despite his best efforts, the other man stirred, and his eyes fluttered open.

            “Wh…what’re you doing?” he mumbled groggily. Jack felt himself blushing and didn’t know why.

            “Uh…you forgot to take these off.” Jack held up his glasses. Mark stared at them uncomprehendingly for a few moments before he smiled a little.

            “Damn. Thanks, that was nice of you. Just put ‘em on the nightstand.”      

            Jack nodded, trying not to stare at Mark’s face. His normally-unruly hair was already starting to muss from the pillow, and he hadn’t been asleep ten minutes yet. He stood up and dusted off his legs.

            “Dude, are you in your underwear?” Mark asked in a gravelly voice. Jack glanced down as if just remembering.

            “Oh, yeah I am…hope that’s okay.”

            “Nah, you’re fine. It’s just weird seeing you half-naked.”

            Jack turned away, his face heating up for a second time. What was getting into him? It must’ve been the fatigue.

            “You’d better get used to it,” he half-joked, crawling under his covers. “’Night, Mark. See you in the mornin’.”

            “’Night.” Within minutes Mark was asleep once again.

            Jack purposely stared at the wall, resisting the urge to roll over and stare at Mark again. Whatever was so mesmerizing about watching him sleep was stupid, and Jack needed to focus on sleeping himself. Despite being drop-dead tired, it seemed like it took him ages before he could finally drift off.

* * *

            The next day, Jack woke up to the sight of Mark with thick, dripping hair flopped over a towel wrapped around his neck. He was hopping up and down as he struggled into a pair of jeans.

            “What’s the problem?” Jack asked amusedly. “You gettin’ fatter?”

            “Hey, watch your mouth!” Mark shouted back. “These fit perfect, just you wait!”

            Jack swung his legs out of bed and yawned. It was eight thirty in the morning. “You gotten breakfast yet?”

            “Nope, I was gonna wake you up in a few minutes. Get dressed before they put it away.”

            Jack threw on a green T-shirt and jeans (which he smugly slid into on the first try) and followed Mark to the lobby, where they ate mediocre sausage links and bagels while they discussed their plans.  

            “So where’re we goin’ first?” Jack asked.

            “Vegas. It’s closer. I hope you brought your ID.”

            “So are we gonna have the full Vegas experience?” Jack grinned conspiratorially. “Booze, gamblin’, and hookers?”

            “I dunno about that third thing, but we’ll definitely go to a few bars if you want.”

            “Hell yeah I do. You _can’t_ expect to take an Irishman to Vegas and not let him get wasted.”

            “Get wasted all you want, but if you throw up I’m not cleaning up after you.”

            “Pfft, _please_. What kinda lightweight do you take me for?”

            They finished their meal, checked out, and got back onto the road. They merged onto a highway once again, where the scenery consisted only of other cars and trees ringing the guardrails. Jack surprised himself by daydreaming about getting into the wilderness of Colorado. He’d never been, but he’d heard that it was green and spacious, something that L.A. seriously lacked.

            “I can’t wait to see the Grand Canyon,” he told Mark, who shrugged.

            “Yeah, it should be kinda cool.”

            “…If you don’t wanna go, we don’t have—”

            “No, I do, don’t get me wrong. I’m just not a big country person. I told you that.”

            “Why not? The sky’s clear and you’re not constantly breathin’ somebody else’s air.”

            “You’re right about the space thing.” Mark smirked. “I really hate living in such a crowded area…but I don’t know, I like air conditioning and pizzas and hot showers.”

            “Ugh, you’re so spoiled. You’ll never know what it means to be a man ‘til you stay out till three in the mornin’ lambin’ sheep for five hours straight.”

            “If that’s what it takes to be a real man, then I want no part of it.”

            Jack laughed. “You said it, not me.”

            “Are you trying to tell me that you’re _manlier_ than I am?!” Mark demanded, stealing a challenging glance at him.

            “I’m not _tryin_ ’to, I’m _tellin_ ’you!”

            “Fine! Take off your shirt right now. I’ll show you who’s boss.”

            “The measure of manliness isn’t havin’ a six-pack, Mark.”

            “You’re just saying that ‘cause you don’t have one,” he gloated.

            “We’ll settle this later,” Jack vowed. He popped in the Disney CD and cracked open one of his cans of Red Bull. It was still a little cold from staying in the motel mini-fridge overnight. “Now sing with me. I think _Can You Feel the Love Tonight_ is on here.”

            Mark’s face lit up. “Play it _right now_ ,” he ordered vehemently. “This’ll be the first song I fucking _nail_.”

* * *

            They stopped at a gas station for lunch, where Jack forewent the attached Papa John’s and instead bought four more bags of turkey jerky. Mark laughed at him.

            “That isn’t a meal!” he protested. He’d gotten himself a personal pizza.

            “All right, listen here. I’m an adult, they’re delicious, and I’m gonna buy ‘em.” Jack thanked the cashier, who seemed to be struggling not to laugh at their banter. They sat down in the pizzeria, and Jack pulled out his phone while he shoveled jerky into his mouth.

            He’d gotten twenty-nine texts since last night, which startled him. All of them were from Lauren. She seemed to go from tearfully apologetic to annoyed at his lack of response until finally she was screaming at him in all caps calling him many a bad name, most frequently a bitch-ass two-faced whore.

            “Ugh, I need to get a new phone number,” Jack sighed, dropping it unceremoniously on the table. Mark picked it up and scrolled through, his frown deepening with each message.

            “You know what? Fuck her. You don’t deserve this.” Mark set down his pizza aggressively and punched some buttons. He held the phone up to his ear.

            Jack stared at him warily. “What’re you doin’?”

            “One sec. Watch my stuff.” Mark launched out of the booth and marched outside.

            Without hesitation, Jack jumped up and followed him, staying behind the door to listen. After a beat of silence, he heard Mark start to yell.

            “Hey, just what the fuck do you—… _no_ I’m not Jack! Do I fucking _sound_ like Jack?! I…no, I’m not listening to you, I don’t fucking care. _You’re_ the one that’s blowing up his fucking phone and— _shut up_! Shut the fuck up! I don’t give a shit what you thought! _You_ fucking cheated on him, _you’re_ in the fucking wrong… _no_! You have absolutely _no fucking right_ to be mad!”

            Jack’s eyes were steadily widening as he became more and more shocked. Mark was… _defending his honor_?

            “No, shut up, I don’t wanna hear your voice…Your side of the story doesn’t fucking matter! Jack loved you, Jack gave you everything, and you took advantage of him!… _I do not fucking care if you think you’re the victim_! Whatever shitty half-baked excuse you have isn’t gonna cut it! I don’t care about your bullshit!

            “… _No_ , don’t apologize to him, you won’t even fucking mean it…just _stop blowing up his fucking phone_. He’s already tearing himself up over it. He doesn’t deserve any more of your fucking abuse…I don’t give a _shit_ what you do! Go fuck your _own_ brother for all I care! Just stop texting this fucking number!…Whatever, does it even really _matter_ who I am? I’m his best friend. Now stop fucking contacting this number.”

            Jack heard the phone flick shut, and he rushed back to the table a few seconds before Mark walked in the door. He fell heavily into the booth and began eating his pizza silently, staring down the phone in his hand.

            “So…who’d you call?” Jack asked innocently. Mark rolled his eyes.

            “C’mon, I’m not an idiot. I know you were listening.”

            Jack blushed. “Fine, you caught me. Why’d you call her? You didn’t have to do that.”

            “Because it’s bullshit. It’s one thing to cheat on someone, but it’s another to _blame_ them for it. You don’t deserve that kind of shit.”

            Jack felt touched. “Thanks dude. I appreciate it.” He pocketed his phone and dug back into his lunch. “Did she yell at you?”

            “Yeah, of course she did. _Damn_ , her voice is annoying. What the hell did you see in her?”

            “I honestly have no idea,” Jack answered, and it was the truth, even though he still caught himself thinking about her a few dozen times a day. It hurt every time he became aware of it again. “I just wish she’d leave me alone.”

            Mark half-smiled. “She seemed pretty scared. But if she texts you again, I’ll take care of her.”

            Jack raised one eyebrow. “And how’ll you do that?” he asked warily.

            “Eh, I can always smash her apartment with my car.”

            “ _That’s illegal_ , _Mark_.”

            “Dammit, you’re right. It really should be legal to smack around bitches who deserve it.”

            “You wanna get onto changing that law?”

            “Sure, why not? I’ll run for President. It’ll be my campaign platform.”

            “As long as I get to live in the White House with you.”

            “Definitely. I’ll hire you on as a foreign maid or pool boy or something.”

            Jack threw a piece of jerky at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter, again, is a lot of little scenes without a whole lot of plot direction. That bugged me last time, but I think it works well for this installment. That's probably just going to be the majority of what this fic is, which is fine with me if it's fine with you guys. It's different than the other things I've written, which are (for the most part) very plot-driven, but it's good to branch out. :P
> 
> Comments and constructive criticism are always appreciated! Just be polite. :)


	4. Viva Las Vegas

            They drove through the afternoon and into the late evening speeding down highways at forty miles over the speed limit in some places. They kept the Disney CD on full blast, looping it back every time it finished. With Google’s help, they were memorizing the lyrics pretty effectively.

            “We’ll be Disney connoisseurs by the time we get back to L.A.,” Jack laughed after they flawlessly busted through _Circle of Life_.

            “Damned straight we will. People will envy us for our skills and prowess.” He turned off the highway and towards Las Vegas. Jack’s heart began to beat excitedly.

            “So which casinos are we stoppin’ at?” he asked.

            “Dude, _all of them_. We won’t stop until we’re millionaires.”

            “Or until we’re broke.”

            “Yeah, whichever comes first.”

            They drove down a hill and through the desert air. The sun melted into the horizon all around them, and in the ever-approaching distance, Jack could make out the blinding, tacky neon lights of their destination.

            The “Welcome to Las Vegas” passed them overhead, and Jack craned his neck to get a look at it. Suddenly, all around them were enormous buildings filled with burning lights and the sounds of raucous shouting. The further into the heart of the city they got, the more fountains, sculptures, and dazzling neon lights they saw. Impenetrable crowds of people snaked around the street on all sides.

            “Goddamn, this place is _huge_!” Jack marveled. Sure, L.A. was hectic, but this was a whole new level of craziness.

            He turned and looked at Mark. The twinkling lights reflecting off his glasses made him look positively anime.

            “You’re right about that. There’s sin on every corner.”

            “Lord knows we love to sin.”

            Mark grinned at him mischievously. “Are you ready to take on that responsibility?” he asked in a shockingly husky voice that made Jack’s chest kick in a strange way.

            “Uh…yeah, guess so,” he replied back unintelligently, still recovering from whatever the fuck _that_ reaction was. He looked back out the window and saw an approaching parking garage. “Let’s park there.”

            “Hopefully it won’t be _too_ obscenely expensive,” Mark muttered to himself as he turned in. Parking was ten dollars, which shocked them both but was apparently a cheap rate in the city of gambling and booze. Mark paid it (grumpily) and parked as close to the elevator as he could get. They left most of their bags in the car, deciding that they’d rather go casino-hopping for a while before they chose a hotel for the night.

            “Where to first? You’re in charge,” Mark announced once they were back on the street. They were almost immediately swarmed by the crowd.

            “Uh…that one!” Jack pointed at a random tacky building with a sprawl of lights and sequin-clad women standing outside. Mark nodded.

            “All right, lead the way!”

            Jack started to, but going against the flow of human traffic was like swimming against a riptide. He glanced back to see where Mark was and almost lost him.

            “Slow down, wait for me!” Mark cried, reaching forward. Without thinking, Jack grabbed his hand and yanked him closer.

            “Maybe if you weren’t so goddamn short, I’d be able to find you,” he joked. Mark rolled his eyes.

            “Ha ha, _very funny_. C’mon, let’s go before people think we’re a couple.”

            Jack glanced down at their clasped hands and fought off a blush. “No need to sound so insulted,” he joked instead, and after checking both ways he led Mark through a mad dash across the street and into the gaudy building.

* * *

            The inside of the casino was _packed_ , but at least it didn’t costs anything to get in. Mark shelled out some money and distributed some quarters between the two of them. They silently made tracks for the slot machines first. There was something less intimidating about placing bets to a machine rather than an actual person, even though the former was probably rigged to hell.

            Jack went first (at Mark’s insistence). He fed it some money and pulled the lever. The cartoony fruits whizzed and whirred in a dizzying array of color before settling in a random order that won him nothing. He shook his head with a smirk.

            “Damn thing’s gotta be rigged,” he said to Mark. “When’s the last time you ever heard of somebody winnin’ on one of these?”

            “Have faith, you probably just suck,” Mark replied, stepping up to it himself. He fed it a quarter and got similar results. “See that? I won. You just don’t know what you’re doing.”

            “You won, huh?! Show me your money!”

            “A _true_ winner wins in his heart.”

            Jack chortled. “Shut the fuck up, you idiot! Let me at it again.” He spent a few more quarters buying bitter failure before finally giving up and turning his gaze to the blackjack tables.

            Mark joined him. They put up the minimum amount to bet and let the dealer take control. Mark, Jack found, was very good under pressure. He met the dealer’s cool, challenging gaze head on without flinching, even when his hand was terrible. Jack had nothing even close to that kind of confidence. Strangely enough, however, he was the one that ended up doubling his money (a whole ten bucks to take home).

            “Here you go,” he said merrily as he walked away with his riches. He shoved the money into Mark’s hand. “For parking.”

            “C’mon, you won that money, I can’t take it from you.”

            “I insist. You’ve paid for every other goddamn thing we’ve done.”

            Mark shrugged and pocketed it. They drifted around aimlessly, cracking jokes and weaving around other customers in various states of drunkenness. The loud lights and bright colors and constant clanging of change was almost enough to put Jack over the edge, but he found the experience to be incredibly entertaining with Mark there to commentate on the ridiculousness of it all.

            They depleted the majority of their money before Jack finally hit a lucky break at the roulette wheel. He placed a split bet on nine and ten, surrounded by other guests leaning gratuitously over the table. The dealer spun the wheel dutifully, and the crowd watched the little ball bounce up and around. Jack and Mark clung side-by-side, sandwiched together by the tight crowd, and watched as the ball sidled into number ten. There was a loud cheer and a lot of jumping up and down from Jack, Mark, and the crowd alike, and the dealer stone-facedly handed Jack thirty dollars.

            “Okay, but since _I funded_ our little expedition here, I get a payout,” Mark joked while Jack walked away (much to the dealer’s disappointment, but Jack wasn’t about to be conned out of his money by betting again).

            “What if I buy you a drink and call it even?” he offered. They skirted past a group of tipsy girls squealing at a slot machine payout. The air was almost infectious with excitement and booze, and Jack felt almost left out by not having at least one beer in him.

            Mark half-smiled. “I _guess_ ,” he fake-pouted. “Maybe if I’m drunk I’ll have better luck.”

            “How does _that_ work?!” Jack led them into the bar, where he ordered a shot of whiskey for each of them. Jack downed his in a gulp and puckered at the acidic taste as it rolled down his throat.

            “ _Ugh_ , that’s strong.”

            “Too strong for an Irishman?” Mark bantered, still cringing at the taste of his own. “Oh, God, I can practically feel it sitting in my stomach.”

            “That’s how you know it’s good,” Jack said, smirking. He waved to the bartender and held up four fingers. Four little glasses were placed in front of them.

            Mark eyeballed him. “Are you _trying_ to get me drunk?” he joked half-suspiciously.

            “C’mon, you can’t be in _Vegas_ and not be at least a little bit drunk.” Jack tossed them back side-by-side. The white-hot taste was a little easier to swallow now, but it wasn’t exactly pleasant. The cottony feeling it left in his head, however, he could get used to.

            Mark reddened a little as he drank one. He stared at the other one warily. “Three shots? Are you sure?”

            Jack shrugged. “It’s your decision, man. I’ll drink it if you don’t want it.”

            He didn’t mean it as a challenge, but Mark seemed to take it as one. Wordlessly, he gulped it down, his neck straining against the taste. He slammed it down, visibly pinker than he’d been a few minutes ago. “There. Who’s manlier now?”

            Jack laughed. “Is _that_ how we’re gonna test our manliness? Doin’ shots all night?”

            “You got a better idea?” Mark asked with a lazy grin. He lounged in his barstool, still loosely gripping one of his shot glasses.

            Jack considered it. “There’s probably a less deadly way,” he mused. “Wanna go back to the machines? We’ve still got a little money.”

            They paid the bartender, which ended up making their “little money” more like ten dollars. They decided to leave the casino and wandered back out into the street, considerably tipsier than they had been before. Jack wondered (vaguely) if one of them should’ve stayed sober so they could babysit, but it was far too late to worry about it now.

            “Let’s just walk around for a while,” Mark suggested, clumsily locking arms with him. “It’s not like we have much money left anyway.”

            Jack giggled a little. “We probably should’ve had a little more money to burn if we were goin’ to Vegas.”

            “And then what? We’d be broke as hell. Nah, let’s just walk. It’s fun being lost like this.” Mark was starting to slur a little. Jack hoped he hadn’t gotten him too drunk.

            They walked away from the casino and past four or five more, the sidewalks thinning out as the initial crowd had flocked to their respective destinations. The glow of the streetlamps and the neon advertisements was almost as bright as the daytime sun. Las Vegas really was a city that never slept.

            “I’ve always wanted to come here,” Mark thought aloud, his face cast towards the stars high above. “It just seemed like something I had to do before I died.”

            Jack smiled. “You impressed?” He tightened his grip on his arm as he seemed to stumble close to a trash can, and he had to stifle a laugh.

             “It’s not bad. Not much different than any other place though.”

            “What makes you say that? It’s _Vegas_ , for God’s sake!”

            “It’s a city! We _live_ in a city! It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

            Jack laughed, rolling his eyes. “Damn, you’re _cynical_ when you’re drunk.”

            “I’m not drunk!”

            “Uh huh, _sure_ you’re not,” Jack indulged as he yanked him back from a pothole.

            They wandered down the road and hung a left. Up ahead was a huge building spread in a semicircle around a fountain. A large crowd had gathered around the fountain. Mark smiled.

            “Hey, I’ve heard of this place. C’mon, this should be cool.” He tugged him forward, and Jack almost immediately lost his balance and stumbled forward. The ground seemed to rush up to greet him, and he straightened dizzily. _Damn, maybe_ I’m _drunk_.

            Mark pulled him into the crowd of people, bobbing and weaving to find a good spot. “Damn I hate being short,” he mumbled to himself. Finally they found viewing area near the outskirts of the crowd.

            “What is this place?” Jack asked. As far as he could tell everyone was staring at a manmade pond. Mark, however, seemed to be excited.

            “It’s this fountain thing. They do lightshows here. I’ve seen videos.” He leaned heavily onto Jack, and he clasped his wrist in the dark. Jack felt his heart jump up into his throat, beating erratically. Shit, what was _in_ that whiskey? He gripped Mark back tightly for what he assumed was to help him keep his balance.

            “That sounds pretty cool,” he said politely, mostly sticking around because it was _free_. They stared expectantly at the water for a few minutes.

            “Hey, I’m glad you came here with me,” Mark said abruptly. He was standing incredibly close to Jack, and without warning he let go of his wrist and wrapped an arm around his waist, his fingertips pushing into the fabric of Jack’s shirt. Jack felt himself gulp, dizzied from the contact and the beer and the headiness of the Nevada midnight desert. Dear Lord, this _was_ sensory overload, but he _liked it_. What in the fuck did he _drink_?!

            “You…you are?” he stammered, his tongue not cooperating with the thoughts in his head. “Why’s that?”

            “’Cause you’re my _friend_ ,” Mark almost whined, his breath washing over Jack’s neck. Jack looked at him and half-smiled at his obvious tipsiness. Mark was smiling dopily, his face still a little pink, and he listed slightly from side to side. “There’s no one I’d rather be in a giant-ass city with but you.”

            Jack laughed a little, unsure of what to say. “You’re so drunk,” he decided on.

            “I _am not_ , you’re drunk!”

            “No I’m not. No drunker than I always am, anyway.” That wasn’t true, though. Only being drunk could explain Jack’s jitteriness, and the way he seemed to gasp at every little touch. Mark’s arm tightened around him, and Jack practically wriggled. Was he being ticklish? He was probably just ticklish.

            “Hey! It’s starting!” Mark cried suddenly, and Jack blinked and looked up. He realized he’d been staring at Mark’s face. God, he was spacey today. Whiskey didn’t normally affect him like this. Maybe it was something in the Vegas alcohol. They probably doubled on everything just to get people to spend more.

            Water began to jettison from the fountain, the lights catching it like falling diamonds. The crowd oohed appreciatively. Jack watched, captivated, as the water twisted into spirals and shapes, the lights flicking from red to blue to yellow to white to purple in time with the music. They chose to play a Rihanna song for the show, and Mark laughed out of nowhere.

            “Damn, it’s too bad they didn’t pick _Lion King_ ,” he lamented. “We would’ve stolen the show.”

            Jack laughed. “What, as drunk as we are?! I’d _hate_ to see footage of that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like this chapter!!! I'm proud of the way it's been written!!!
> 
> Mostly I'm glad I'm getting an understanding of how this story works. It'll read more like a series of events than a main, central plot. Hopefully you guys are into that. (And from the feedback I've been getting, you are! Yay!) I also liked writing the slight tension in this one. It'll be fun to have everything slowly dawn on Jack, hehehehe~
> 
> Comments and constructive criticism are always appreciated! Just please be polite. :)


	5. Gay Would-You-Rather

            Jack woke up by denting his head on the corner of a table. He yelled in pain, sitting up while stars blinked behind his eyes.

            “God _damm_ it!” He clutched his forehead and opened his eyes, but he was unfortunately facing the window. The dusty bars of light being thrown in were like the equivalent of him dunking his head in a pot of boiling lava, and he pulled his head into his lap with a pathetic groan.

            “ _Maaaaaark_ … _where are yooooooou_ ….”

            “I’m in the bathroom!” a feeble voice called from somewhere across the room. “You okay?”

            “Yeah, I just fuckin’ busted my skull in, no biggie.” Jack tried to lift his head but collapsed in pain again the minute he glimpsed the sun. “I’ve got a _splittin_ ’ headache, though.”

            “From the cracked skull or the hangover?”

            “Both, I guess. Where—?”

            Jack was interrupted by the sound of dry heaving. He winced in sympathy as he heard bile hitting toilet water, followed shortly by a flush. Mark walked out a few moments later, eyeing Jack haggardly.

            “Morning,” he grumbled, falling into the opposite bed.

            Jack rubbed his eyes. “Where the fuck _are_ we?”

            “Hotel.”

            “How’d we get here?”

            “Dunno.”

            “What’s the last thing you remember?”

            “Uh…Jesus, hang on, it’ll come to me.” He sat up slowly, squinting in the heavy sunlight. “Would you go close that shade?”

            Jack really didn’t want to, but he wasn’t the one with morning sickness, so he decided to take one for the team. He shuffled towards the sun like a blind man and finally succeeded in drawing the heavy curtain.

            “We were at the fountain,” Mark said hoarsely. “Right? We saw the light show.”

            Jack nodded slowly. “Yeah…yeah, I remember that.” That’s when he first noticed how drunk he’d gotten. There were the dazzling lights, the noisy crowds, the rushing pavement, Mark’s arm slinked around his waist…so many emotions, so many sensations. It felt like a dream.

            “Anythin’ after that?” Jack prompted, trying to remember himself. He walked back over and plunked down on Mark’s bed, facing him. Both of them probably looked (and smelled) like shit, but he could shower later.

            “Uh…I think after that we just walked around,” Mark went on, his pale face screwed up in concentration. “The last I remember we were walking past…stores, or something. Do you remember that?”

            Jack hazily recalled stumbling down the sidewalk with Mark, singing some terrible song way off key. “Yeah, actually…well, that doesn’t explain how we ended up here.”

            Mark nodded, then his throat jumped suddenly. He cleared his throat.

            “If you’ll excuse me…,” he said thickly, “I think I’m gonna go throw up.”

            While Mark got sick again, Jack took the liberty of calling the front desk and asking (very embarrassedly) how they’d ended up there. The receptionist apparently got this kind of response often, and she explained how they’d shown up in the lobby “drunk as skunks” and were able to show some kind of ID for the room.

            “It was a bit of a struggle to get you into your room, but we didn’t want to turn you out into the street,” she clarified.

            Jack’s cheeks burned. “Jesus, I’m so sorry….”

            “It’s fine, we’re used to it. You’re still going to have to pay the rate, though.”

            Jack grew wary, but it turned out that he and Mark, even while drunk, had had the wherewithal to pick a semi-cheap destination to crash. He hung up with her just as Mark came back, now shirtless.

            “Uh…,” Jack stuttered in confusion. “May I ask why?”

            Mark glanced at his exposed torso disinterestedly. “Got vomit on my shirt,” he replied, sitting heavily. “Did you find out how we got here?”

            Jack explained the situation while Mark nodded slowly. “We can check out by noon,” he told him. “If you feel like drivin’, that is.”

            Mark laughed a little. “Dude, I barely feel like _moving_. One more day can’t hurt.” He flopped onto his back and stretched his arms above his head.

            Jack nodded in agreement. Without meaning to, his gaze combed the length of Mark’s half-naked body. “Jesus, dude, how the hell do you find time to work out?” he muttered in wonderment.

            Mark’s grin widened smugly. “You mean all this? Nah, this is _all_ natural.”

            “That’s _gotta_ be a lie.”

            “I never lie.”

            “Oh, _sure_ you don’t.” Jack’s headache wasn’t subsiding, and if anything he could feel it pounding harder. “Ugh, I’m gonna ring the front desk for some pain pills. Want anythin’?”

            Mark rolled over, nodding. His eyes were closed, and one might’ve thought he was sleeping and not wishing he was dead. “Some Pepto Bismol if they have it…and for the love of God, some tomato juice, _please_.”

* * *

            A worker brought the intended items to them, and Jack put it on his tab. Mark was still lying comatose.

            “Sit up. I’ve got your tomato juice.” When Mark didn’t move, Jack resignedly walked over, grabbed his shoulder, and tried to yank him into a sitting position. He only succeeded in annoying him.

            “Come _on_ , just lemme sleep it off….”

            “You wanted this expensive-ass juice, now drink it.” Sighing, Mark complied, taking the juice and sipping it tentatively.

            Jack set the medicines on the table and swallowed two Tylenol pills dry. He glanced at the TV but didn’t really feel like watching, and he sure as hell didn’t want to go outside feeling the way he felt.

            “Wanna play a game or somethin’?” he asked. Mark gave him a strange look.

            “I’ve got a game. It’s called the who-can-fall-asleep-first game. I always win.”

            “C’mon, I’m _bored_.”

            “Don’t you feel like shit? _I_ feel like shit.”

            “Well yeah I feel like shit, _and_ I’m bored. It’s a double-whammy.”

            Mark sat up wearily. “ _Fine_ , I’ll play your game. What’d you have in mind?”

            Jack thought about it. “I dunno. Truth or dare?”

            “ _No way_. You’ve gotten me to make enough bad decisions as it is.”

            Jack half-smiled. “I _said_ you didn’t have to drink that third shot.”

            “What, and let you get drunker? No thanks. Next game, please.”

            “Umm…would you rather?”

            Mark shrugged. “Doesn’t sound too bad. You start.”

            “Fine. Would you rather…suck five dicks at the same time or get bitten by a cottonmouth snake?”

            “Jesus, dude, at least make ‘em hard. Suck five dicks.”

            “ _Gross_!” Jack cried, even though it was mostly an act. “Why?!”

            “Because I don’t _fucking die_ in that scenario! Plus sucking dick can’t be _that_ bad.”

            “You’d know, huh?” Jack said suggestively. Mark rolled his eyes.

            “Next question. Would you rather throw up ten live spiders or throw up a million live ants?”

            “ _Yuck_! Ants, I guess, ‘cause they’re not poisonous. Why’re all of yours about throwin’ up?”

            “Because all I wanna _do_ right now is throw up.”

            Jack laughed. “That’s pretty unfortunate.”

            “I don’t understand how you’re not feeling the least bit sick.”

            “Because I’m _Irish_! Alcohol only makes us stronger!”

            “Uh huh, _sure_. Tell that to your hangover. It’s your turn.”

            “Okay, would you rather have sex with…hmmm, I gotta make this hard.”

            Mark grinned slowly. “Make what hard?” he asked in a husky, suggestive voice. Jack felt his cheeks inexplicably flame up, and he looked away.

            “C’mon, don’t make it _weird_. Uh…would you rather have sex with Neil Patrick Harris or Robert Downey Jr.?”

            “Jesus, Jack, why are all of yours so sexual?”

            “I dunno, it makes ‘em more fun.”

            Mark shook his head, still smiling a little. “Okay, then explain to me why they’re all so _gay_.”

            Jack’s gaze lingered for a half second on Mark’s lean, sculpted torso. “No reason.”

            “Fine, whatever. Neil Patrick Harris, I guess.”

            Jack shook his head. “Such poor taste. RDJ has _much_ more charm.”

            “Uh, excuse me, I think we’re forgetting that Neil Patrick Harris is _actually gay_. Ever heard of consent?”

            “What, are you kidding?!” Jack chortled. “Let’s be honest, Robert Downey Jr. would fuck anything that moved.”

* * *

            Mark and Jack spent their last day in the great city of Vegas slumming it in their hotel room while they waited for their headaches to go away. They took turns showering and ordered room service off and on as their appetites returned. There weren’t many good shows on TV, but they were able to find one decent slasher flick towards the end of the night ( _after_ Mark’s nausea had subsided).

            “ _Jesus_ , people in horror movies are fuckin’ retarded,” Jack grumbled to himself as the busty brunette was sliced in half.

            “My view is shit from here. Can I sit in your bed?” Mark inquired. Jack nodded and scooted over wordlessly.

            Mark climbed in next to him, covering his legs with the blanket. He still hadn’t put on a shirt. (He didn’t exactly have an extra, given that the suitcases were still in the car and neither had bothered to get them.) Jack had been able to somewhat ignore it for the majority of the day, but now that he was sitting right next to him it was impossible to resist the urge to stare. While Mark remained engrossed in the blood and guts splashed all over the screen, Jack’s eyes traced patterns up and down his well-defined (and completely natural, the rat bastard) abs and biceps.

            _What am I doin’?_ Jack wondered to himself without looking away. _What’s so fascinating about seein’ Mark shirtless? It’s not like I haven’t seen it before._ Actually, come to think of it, he hadn’t. It wasn’t as if they’d gone swimming or hot tubbing together. Besides, Mark’s was a body that Jack would’ve remembered.

            Jesus, between the whiskey, the exposed torso, and the would-you-rather, Jack really needed a reality check. He looked pointedly back at the TV just in time to see another girl get cut into bloody ribbons. Mark groaned in sympathy.

            “I _hate_ gore,” he moaned. Jack reached for the remote.

            “Want me to turn it off? I don’t mind.”

            “Yeah, go ahead. There’s nothing interesting in this movie anyway.”

            Jack flipped the channels until he found what he thought was a passable sitcom. Mark, however, shook his head.

            “Let me do it.” He reached across Jack for the remote, his chest pressing lightly into Jack’s arm. The latter found it shockingly difficult to breathe until Mark had claimed his prize and began channel surfing again.

            “Mark…,” he blurted suddenly, not knowing what his tongue was doing.

            “Yeah?”

            “Do you ever wonder…?”

            “Wonder what, dude?”

            “Do you…do you ever wonder why you feel the way you do?”

            Mark gave him a puzzled look. “Could you narrow that down for me there, bud?”

            Jack smiled despite himself. “I mean, like, you know you _shouldn’t_ feel the way about a certain thing, but you still feel that way about it?”

            Mark scrutinized Jack for a few silent moments, making him feel X-rayed and wishing that he’d just answer the damn question already.

            “Are you talking about Lauren, by chance?” he asked finally. Jack felt strangely relieved.

            “Uh…I dunno, maybe.” He knew the answer was no, but he didn’t know how to phrase the truth.

            “Dude, you really just need to forget about her. She’s no good for you.”

            Jack sighed exasperatedly. “It’s not _about_ that, dude. I’m not still pinin’ over her, I just….”

            “You just what?” Mark asked. “You know you can tell me anything, right Jack?”

            Jack shrugged one shoulder. “I guess,” he said noncommittally, hoping he didn’t sound like a jerk.

            Mark’s brow furrowed. “Hey, I mean it! You can. What’s wrong? What’s bothering you?”

            “Nothin’. Just forget I said somethin’.”

            “C’mon, Jack, I’m sorry. Gimme a chance.”

            Jack turned away a little, thinking hard. “It’s hard for me to even phrase what I wanna ask,” he said dismissively. “I’m sorry. Just drop it, okay?”

            Mark stared at him hard for a moment or two, but he sighed dejectedly. “Fine, I guess,” he sighed. “Let me know if you change your mind.”

            He stood up and moved to the other bed, and Jack felt strangely lonely. He rolled over and blurted, “I just wish I was attracted to people I actually liked.”

            Mark looked at him in confusion. “How do you mean?”

            Jack sat up in bed, the cheap coverlet slipping off his legs. “I mean I feel like I’m always hoppin’ from girl to girl because I don’t really _like_ any of ‘em, or else they don’t really like me.”

            Mark sat up, too. The two men were eye-level, staring at each other from across the room. It felt strangely confrontational.

            “I thought your problem was that you fell _too_ hard, not that you didn’t fall hard enough,” Mark said slowly.

            Jack shrugged. “I guess I’ve always _thought_ that that was the problem, but now…I dunno. I guess somethin’s changin’.”

            “Are you saying you’re going on some kind of road of self-discovery?”

            Jack gulped, and he felt his fingers twitch nervously. His gaze drank in Mark’s unshaven jaw, his layered torso, and his raised eyebrows without meaning to.

            “I mean…I _guess_ you could say that.”

            “Well…I guess there’s no better place to go on a self-discovery than a road trip, amiright?”

            Jack was startled into laughing. Mark laughed with him, his eyes crinkling up in amusement, and Jack felt his stomach flip. He hoped it was just the hangover.

            “Probably not, I agree.” He glanced at the clock. It was nearing nine o’clock. “I might turn in early, just so we can get checked out first thing and hit the road again. Where’s our next stop?”

            “Arizona, I think. You still wanna see the Grand Canyon?”

            Jack nodded. He thought fondly of the spacious desert air. It wouldn’t be the rolling green Irish farms that he was used to, but it was certainly a step up from smoggy cities. “I hope you’re excited to see a huge cut in the rock!”

            Mark groaned. “Yeah, color me excited,” he deadpanned. “I might sleep early, too. My stomach still feels kinda queasy.”

            Jack shut off the TV and went in the bathroom to freshen up a little. He stared at himself in the mirror (thank God his color was returning; this morning he’d been as white as a sheet) and splashed some water on his cheeks and neck. The cold liquid seemed to wake him up a little, and he felt clarity returning. It was about time.

            Was he really implying what he _thought_ he was implying back there? He didn’t fully believe it himself. It had to be the illness, or the drunkenness that was probably still somewhere in his system. There was no way he was _gay_ , anyway. He’d never had a romantic attraction to a man in all his life. Why start now? Most people knew their sexuality by their teen years, didn’t they? That’s what he’d heard, anyway. There were always outliers, but Jack seriously doubted that he was one.

            Nah, sexuality was the least of his concerns. He’d just had a long night, and his brain (and liver) were still trying to catch up. Satisfied, he marched out of the bathroom and past an already-snoring Mark. He’d pulled the covers up to his shoulders, which certainly helped him stick to his convictions long enough to fall asleep.

* * *

            They checked out by seven-thirty and spent the next half hour wandering around in search of their parking garage before realizing it was a block away from their hotel. Jack couldn’t help laughing hysterically at Mark’s colorful vocabulary upon this discovery.

            “I can’t fucking believe it…why didn’t they just fucking _tell us_ it was here before we _left_?!”

            “Because how were they supposed to know where we were parked?!” Jack chortled in reply, leaning against the elevator wall as it raised them higher into the sky.

            Mark shook his head darkly. “This is the _last_ time I do shots with you, hear me? I’ve gotten into enough shit these few days.”

            “Oh, _honey_ , this is some rookie-level shit. You should’ve gotten drunk with some of my buddies back in secondary school.”

            “Jesus Christ, _no_ thank you.”

            They found the car and unlocked it. Sitting inside it was like sitting inside an industrial-sized oven, so they waited outside for a few minutes to let it air out. Mark leaned against the roof of the car, laying his chin on his arms and drumming his fingers on the metal top.

            Jack gulped, looking away from him. It was hard to stick to his principles that he’d founded last night when he watched Mark do…well, basically anything. It had to be fatigue, or homesickness, or _something_. He’d known Mark forever, right? There was no way he could feel any differently about him than he always had… _right_?

            “Should be good now,” Mark interjected, scattering Jack’s thoughts. They fell into the seats, and Mark gunned the engine. They zoomed out of the garage at double the speed limit, and Jack was surprised to realize just how much he’d missed this little car with all its smells and sensations. In the past few days, it had almost felt like a second home to him.

            “Next stop, Natureific Crack-in-the-Ground,” Mark announced ceremoniously, merging into the Vegas traffic. “Glad I can mark _this_ place off my bucket list.”

            Jack couldn’t help giggling. “You can also cross of getting _drunk_ in Vegas.”

            “I don’t know why that would’ve been on my bucket list in the _first place_. I don’t know what it is about you Irish people, but there is _nothing_ fun about getting shit-faced.”

            “That’s just ‘cause you’re a lightweight and you don’t do it right.” Jack rolled down the window, sticking his hand out into the wind and letting it filter through his fingers. He kissed Vegas goodbye, with its overpriced parking and laced liquor that he wouldn’t miss. But he couldn’t deny the majesty of the fountain lightshow, nor the dizzying sensation of Mark clinging drunkenly to his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is actually kind of funny. That's cool, because I don't normally get to write humor. :P
> 
> I reeeeeeally hope you guys are liking this story! It keeps giving me anxiety because it's different than my usual style...I promise that once I'm done with this one (whenever THAT may be) it'll be back to my regularly-scheduled melodramatic angst, promise. ;)
> 
> Comments and constructive criticism are always appreciated! (They sure clear up my anxiety, lmao.) Just be polite! :)


	6. A Ban on Turkey Jerky

            Mark drove for about two-and-a-half hours before pulling into a gas station. Jack pocketed his phone and stepped out to stretch, flinging his arms up high over his head.

            Mark stepped out and half-smiled at him. “Listen, dude, I’m beat,” he admitted. “Would you mind driving for a while?”

            Jack froze mid-stretch. “ _Me_?” he repeated incredulously.

            “Sure, why not?” Mark walked into the drugstore, presumably to buy something to eat. Jack rushed after him, feeling slightly panicked.

            “Hey! I haven’t driven in ages!” He caught up to him in the candy aisle. “I don’t even have a car of my own!”

            “So? You have a license, right?”

            “Uh…yeah.”

            “Then what’s the problem?” He picked up a baggie of Combos and inspected them thoughtfully.

            Jack chewed on his lower lip. “Well…what if wreck your car? I’m not covered by your insurance.”

            “Dude, if you crash my car the insurance is going to be the _least_ of your problems.”

            That didn’t bode well. Sighing, Jack picked up a few bags of turkey jerky. “I just don’t—”

            “Jack, listen. I’ll be giving you directions, I’ll correct you if something goes wrong; you’ll be fine!” He gave him what he probably assumed was a reassuring grin. His eyes flicked down to the turkey jerky. “God, how many of those have you eaten this week?”

            Jack shrugged halfheartedly. He walked up to the counter and put them in front of the cashier. “I dunno. Five? Ten?”

            “Jesus Christ. Those things are probably _super_ fattening, you know.”

            “Are they? Isn’t turkey s’posed to be, like, a leaner meat?”

            Mark laughed a little. “So? That shit’s probably still full of preservatives and grease and stuff.”

            Jack shrugged. “It’s food and it’s delicious.” He collected them, paid the cashier, and immediately ripped open a bag. The taste was like heaven. He was somewhat concerned about getting addicted (more and more he found himself craving them when he wasn’t eating them), but not enough to actually do something about it.

            Mark bought his food and walked back out to the car. He tossed Jack the keys, which he dropped and had to get on his hands and knees on the tarmac to fish them out from underneath the car.

            Mark laughed. “Nice catch. Good form.”

            “Oh, shut up.” They climbed into the car, Jack sitting rigidly in the driver’s seat. “I still don’t know about this….”

            “Hey, trust yourself. You’ll be fine. Just back out and turn back onto the freeway.”

            Easier said than done. Jack gulped at the controls. It was a simple sedan and thankfully an automatic, but Jack still floundered trying to get it in reverse. He swiveled hard in his chair and backed up slowly, his pulse jumping high into his throat.

            “That’s it, good job. Now drive out onto the road.”

            Jack did as he was told, successfully skirting the curb and merging into the light traffic. Mark crunched on his Combos as he watched.

            “There, this is nice. Now I can relax.” He tilted back his chair and closed his eyes, pillowing his head in his arms.

            “Hey, no, you can’t go to sleep! I don’t know what I’m _doing_!” Jack cried shrilly, almost panicked. Mark sat up grudgingly.

            “Dude, you’ve _got_ this. Just believe in yourself.”

            “Oh, God, inspirational bullshit isn’t gonna help me drive.”

            Mark laughed, and Jack smiled a little despite himself. Mark’s laugh was one of the most infectious Jack had ever heard.

            “ _Fine_ , I’ll keep coaching you for a bit. But I can’t believe you’re a grown-ass man who still needs help driving.”

            “Look, you can insult me or you can risk getting killed in a car accident. What’ll it be?”

            “Is there a third option?”

            Mark directed him for the next twenty minutes. Mostly they stayed on the same interstate. As they left Las Vegas and its outskirts behind, they became more and more surrounded by the scrubby Nevada desert. The sun rose overhead and turned the sky one of the brightest shades of cerulean Jack had ever seen. He couldn’t help marveling at it, which albeit made it a little more difficult to drive. At least the road wasn’t too terribly crowded.

            “Okay, dude, just drive straight until you see a sign leading you to Arizona. I’m gonna stream a movie.” Mark reclined again, pulling up Netflix.

            “Won’t that use data?” Jack asked. He gripped the steering wheel tensely.

            “I have unlimited data.”

            “What about service?”

            “I’m getting service down here.”

            Jack shook his head jealously. “Fuck you and your rich-ass phone.”

            “Hey, I’d let you watch too if you didn’t have to be so focused on the road.”

            “And _whose fault_ is _that_?!”

* * *

            They drove through the bottom of Nevada for a good rest of the afternoon. After a while, Jack wasn’t nervous about driving. If anything it got boring. He envied Mark for being able to watch _Pulp Fiction_ while he had to worry about staying in his lane and honking at tailgaters, but he was way overdue for a break.

            “There’s the turnoff,” Jack reported, flicking on his turn signal. “I do turn here, right?”

            “Yeah, according to the map,” Mark said, glancing up. “Let’s stop off and get some food when we pass restaurants.”

            Jack was hungry, but he shook his head. “Nah, let’s just go get more gas station food. It’s cheaper.”

            Mark set down his phone and looked at him cheekily. “ _Bullshit_. You just want more of that jerky crap!”

            “I do not!” Jack lied, unable to conceal a grin. “I just don’t wanna go and blow a whole bunch of money—”

            “You’re a liar! You’re _so_ addicted to that crap!”

            “There’s _nothin_ ’ wrong with it, it’s _perfectly_ good food—”

            “Lies, lies, lies, lies…”

            Jack was laughing. He lowered his chin to his chest and shook with the effort to compose himself. “ _Fine_ , we’ll eat out if it’s so important to you. But nowhere too expensive.”

            “Well no shit. I’m the one _paying_ for it.”

* * *

            Once they hit Arizona, they drove through the unremarkable desert for another hour.

            “When do you wanna get dinner?” Jack asked after Mark had finished another movie. He was getting pretty hungry himself, and also secretly hoping that he’d take over driving duties.

            “I don’t have a set time. Let’s drive as much as we can, though. Our stint in Vegas wasn’t cheap, and I’d rather not get a hotel.”

            “Okay, sounds good. Do you wanna take shifts for the night?”

            “Yeah, if you wouldn’t mind. That way we can get some sleep and save some money on lodging.”

            “What about the gas bill?”

            “Hey, one problem at a time, okay?” Mark glanced about the car. “In fact…I should _probably_ work on my current project so I can bring _in_ some money before we get to Niagara….”

            Jack didn’t know what kind of work he could do without a Wi-Fi signal, but of course, he wasn’t a web designer.

            “God, I really hate my major,” he blurted suddenly, because it was the first place his mind took him. Mark glanced at him quizzically.

            “I’m…sorry? What brought this on?” he asked, clacking on his keyboard as he pulled up some programs.

            Jack sighed, shaking his head. “I dunno. I guess I’m just jealous of the fact that you _like_ your career and I can’t even find one.”

            “What’d you major in? Remind me.”

            Jack laughed scathingly. “Psychology. Fuckin’ useless piece of shit.”

            “Damn, why’d you decide to go with that?”

            “You don’t know?” He was surprised they’d never talked about this before. Of course, it wasn’t as though it was necessarily one of Jack’s favorite subjects.

            “No, you never bring it up. If it’s too personal then—”

            “It isn’t, don’t be silly.” Jack got off on the next exit promising food and gas. The desert had once been mesmerizing, but now it was just blinding and he was eager to get out of the car. “I went into college not really knowin’ what I was gonna do or major in, so I just kinda fucked around. At the end of my second year I had a bunch of useless credits that I’d already bought, so I couldn’t really afford to go back on any of ‘em. Psychology was the easiest major to complete with all the shit I’d already done. It just came down to poor plannin’ and too much partyin’.”

            “Partying, huh?” Mark smirked. “Well, at least you didn’t drop out.”

            Jack shook his head. “It probably wouldn’t’ve done me any worse if I _had_ ,” he said pessimistically.

            They drove into the thicket of fast food stores and cheap hotels. The scene almost seemed muted after their drunken frolic in the wild, neon chaos that was Vegas. Jack pulled into the first restaurant that appealed to him, which was a Cracker Barrel. Mark got out eagerly and stared up at it with a smile.

            “I _love_ coming here. They have such an adorable little souvenir store.”

            Jack couldn’t help smiling. “You gonna buy any of their tacky-ass snow globes?”

            “I dunno, we’ll have to see.” They walked in, past the homey rocking chairs and coloring books and candies, and were seated quickly. The restaurant was mostly empty. They slid into a booth, and Jack perused the menu.

            “Damn, I wish they had jerky…,” he found himself mumbling. Mark rolled his eyes.

            “This is better than that nasty jerky. Just give it a chance. I’ll buy you something nice.”

            Jack couldn’t help smirking. “You gonna wine and dine me, then?”

            Mark chuckled. “Only the best for you, _babe_.”

            Normally he’d say something witty back, but in the moment, Jack felt his cheeks flush and he couldn’t find anything to say. He looked back at the pump, his heart beating out a frenzied, flustered tune.

            _Jesus shit, get a grip Jack. It’s just banter._

“Hey, let’s talk seriously for a sec.” Jack looked up in surprise as Mark leaned on his elbows, staring imploringly across the table. His shoulders were rolled forward, tightening the T-shirt material over the bumps and crevices of his torso. Jack remembered with painful clarity how that torso had looked all day yesterday as they nursed their hangovers, and he swallowed thickly.

            “Okay…what’s up?”

            “You need a career for your major, right?”

            “It’s not _that_ that I really care about. I just need a career in general.”

            “Yeah, but it’s best to go with your major.” He glanced out the window thoughtfully. “I mean…I can probably help you somehow. I can help you do research or something.”

            “Really? Why would you wanna invest yourself in that?” Jack let the tank fill up and looked at Mark in puzzlement. “I mean, I’m flattered, but what’s your interest?”

            “Charity and good will? I dunno, Jack, I don’t really have a ‘motive.’ I just wanna help you out.” He smiled a little. “Plus I’d like to see you have some side money from time to time.”

            Jack laughed a little, but he felt embarrassed. He’d already burned through most of what money he could spare on this trip, and they still had a long way to go.

            “Maybe I’ll take you up on that. Thank you.”

            At Mark’s encouragement, they both ordered chicken and dumplings. “I mean, we _are_ in the South. We gotta do as the natives do.”

            Jack laughed. “It’s not like we’re gonna fit in if we eat chicken n’ dumplings. There’s some pretty obvious giveaways that we’re tourist.”

            “What? C’mon. There’s _plenty_ of Irish immigrants in Arizona,” Mark replied sarcastically.

            “Oh, I bet. It only makes sense for the original settlers to sail all the way around South America to get here.”

            “You’re damn right. They were probably attracted by…Christ, wait, what is Arizona even known for?”

            Jack laughed into his hand as Mark floundered to make a joke. While they waited for their food, they competed in a game of checkers, which Mark won both times.

            “It’s to make up for my crappy _Rocket League_ skills,” he explained while Jack muttered about unfairness and cheating (even though Mark had done neither).

            “Just you wait. I can be better than you at both. Wait’ll you see.” He didn’t get to, however, because the food arrived back at the table. They abandoned their game to eat, and Jack grudgingly admitted that the turkey jerky didn’t come close to the heavenly taste of seasoned chicken and juicy dumplings.

            They paid and walked back out into the souvenir shop, where Mark was attracted to a display rack of what looked like coloring books. Jack laughed a little.

            “Do you want me to get you some crayons to go with that?” he simpered.

            “I was actually gonna buy this.” He held up a road trip-themed activity book. “It’ll pass the time, and I won’t have to wear out my phone battery watching bad movies.”

            “All right, whatever you say.” He handed him a pack of colored pencils and Mark bought both. They headed back to the car, and Jack drove again.

            “So we’re goin’ through the night, yes?” he clarified. Mark nodded.

            “Yup, and I guess you get first shift. I’ll go to sleep at nine, you wake me up at about midnight. In the meantime, wanna play road trip bingo with me?”

            Jack agreed, and together they hunted for things like brand signs and cement trucks. Jack won the first round, but the second time around they both needed to find the same airport sign to win, and Mark called it a half-second first, spurring a laughably childish argument before Jack finally agreed not to shove him out of the window.

            They played a few more games until evening when it got too hard to read the book, which allowed Mark to decide it was time for him to sleep. Jack wondered how easily he’d sleep in a moving vehicle, but he was out like a light in about twenty minutes.

            Slowly but surely, the moon began to rise over the desert. More and more cars seemed to disappear until it was just Mark and Jack driving alone over the expanse of sand and sky. It was somewhat peaceful, but also kind of creepy. Jack was just grateful he wasn’t really alone.

            He glanced over at Mark, who had begun to snore softly. He was struck by the way he seemed to positively _glow_ in the moonlight. Maybe it was something about the Arizona desert that illuminated him so ethereally. He almost looked like a ghost. His eyelids fluttered as he seemed to dream. Jack gulped, staring at the bouncing glare of him lighting up the car and he had to force himself to return his attention to the road.

            _I need sleep bad_ , he thought to himself as he kept stealing glances. But was that really the truth? Jesus, he was supposed to be the psychology major. Shouldn’t he _know_ what’s going on in his stupid-ass head?!

            Mark stirred in his sleep, shifting from side to side. Jack thought he might’ve heard him mumble but he couldn’t make out the words. The whole situation felt bizarre, just like that first night in the hotel had. There was something about Mark asleep that made him feel…protective, invasive, intimate, curious…was that normal? Did everyone feel that way when they watched over someone while they slept? Come to think of it, Jack had slept in the same room as friends and siblings before, and he’d never felt as antsy or eager to watch over them as he did Mark. Now, sitting in the car beside him, he could almost pick out _loneliness_ in his jumbled up mess of emotions. Where did _that_ come from?!

            Maybe he was missing Lauren? Nah, it couldn’t be her specifically. It must’ve been him missing companionship in general. Jack hated being alone. It was a poisonous fear that got him into far more trouble than he would’ve liked, but it existed. It was the only way to explain his desire to get in relationships with no prior planning or common sense, even if the girls were total pains in the ass.

            Jack sighed, shaking his head. He heard Mark mumble something again, this time more clearly. He strained to listen.

            “Mmm…mf, mm…j…mm, Jack….” He rolled towards the window a bit and fell silent.

            Jack’s brow furrowed deeply. He could feel himself blushing again, although there was no good reason to. Was Mark _dreaming_ about him? That was bizarre. He listened closely for the next thirty minutes or so, but Mark didn’t make any other noises again.

            At some time during the night, Jack glanced down at the clock and was shocked to realize it was twelve-thirty in the morning. He pulled onto the shoulder of the road and poked Mark’s shoulder tentatively.

            “Mark…Maaaaaark…it’s your turn,” he whispered. Mark stirred, snorting a little as he woke up and looked around blearily.

            “My what…? Oh, my turn, right…sorry, I was just having a really weird dream….” He unbuckled and stepped out of the car. As soon as he opened the door Jack could hear insects. He stepped out for himself and breathed in the gritty night air that almost hurt on its way down.

            “What was the dream?” he asked curiously, rounding around the front of the car. Mark leaned against it, staring at the stars as he tried to wake up.

            “Uh…I can’t really remember. I think we were driving, and you were there, and you….” Mark suddenly closed his mouth. His face pinked, and he glanced down, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. “Never mind, I can’t remember.”

            Jack frowned. He shrugged, feeling a yawn coming on. “All right, whatever you say dude. I’m beat.” He sat in Mark’s seat, startled to find that it was still warm from the former tenant’s body heat. “Wake me when we get there, okay?”

            “Hopefully that’ll be soon,” Mark mumbled, getting in and starting the engine. “I’ll try not to drive over any potholes.”

            “You damn well better not,” Jack said threateningly, knowing that he’d hit them straight on if he saw any just to piss him off.

            “Come on, I’m a better friend than _that_.” He pulled into the street and picked up speed. Jack looked up at him with half-closed lids, and he caught sight of a small-but-genuine smile directed his way. “G’night, Jackaboy. See you in the morning.”

            Jack nodded and mumbled something somewhat similar, disturbed by the way his pulse beat erratically. Within a few minutes he was fast asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate to admit this, but I'm losing steam for this fic a little bit. So please let me know if you guys like it, because if not then I may not continue it. But that's all up in the air right now. :)


	7. Naked in the Abyss

            In the dream, Jack was completely naked, but this was the least of his problems. He was sitting alone in an office chair, swinging back and forth ever-so slightly while he hung over a yawning black abyss. He was somehow anchored to the edge of the Grand Canyon, but nothing was securing him to his chair besides his own arm strength and sheer terror.

            Deep down, thousands of feet below, the blackness seemed to _writhe_. Roiling shapes leapt out and around, emanating cries and screeches like demons clawing out of hell. Jack was terrified and sweating bullets, doing his damnedest to stay in the chair and seek a way back to safety.

            But he was alone. There was no one to hold him back from the hellish danger below him. He swung his gaze everywhere he could, feeling close to tears. Who was going to pull him back? Who was going to save him? Could he even save himself?

            In the distance, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a few women sprinting towards him. One of them, he was startled to make out, was Lauren, wearing her pink stilettos and skintight black evening gown. Joining her, clad in a striped bikini and beaded earrings, was another ex-girlfriend of his, named Ingrid. Behind her were Nadia and Tori, their hair fanning out behind them like freshly-shampooed banners. Each of them looked like a supermodel, but Jack couldn’t care less at the moment.

            “ _Hey_!” he screamed, his voice echoing eerily. “Help me, please!”

            They ran up to him, and in a near panic each of them grabbed the back of the chair, digging their finely-manicured nails in. Jack felt his heart begin to race. Thank God, thank the good Lord. Help had arrived.

            But suddenly, he felt himself being shoved forward as each of the girls threw her weight into the back of it, combatting whatever was holding him on the edge in the first place. He cried out in horror, pressing himself as tightly into the chair as possible.

            “What the fuck are you doin’?! _Pull me back_!”

            “Why the _hell_ would we do that?!” Ingrid barked scathingly. When Jack looked back at her, he shrank away in horror to see that her tongue was forked and her eyes as bright as fire.

            “You weren’t _good enough_ for us,” Lauren chimed in, her tone like corroding acid. “Why the fuck would we want _you_ back?!”

            “No, no, _please_ no!” Jack begged as they heaved him closer and closer to the edge. He braced himself, closing his eyes and gritting his teeth, his body already beginning to tingle with the expectation of pain.

            “ _Jack_!”

            His eyes flew open, and he whirled around in his chair. Mark was bolting to him at full speed, breathing hard and flushed deep red. Oddly enough, he was holding a bouquet of pink roses. He tried to shove the girls off of the chair, but they wouldn’t budge. They acted as though he wasn’t even there.

            It occurred to Jack that Mark was getting to see him in all of his naked glory, right down to his unmentionables, but he couldn’t care less. “Mark, _Mark_ , thank God!”

            Mark edged past Lauren aggressively and held out the hand holding the bouquet. “Grab onto me, I’ll pull you back!”

            Jack began to reach for his arm, but something inside him hesitated. _Do you really want that?_ his conscience inquired. _Is that who you really are?_

Jack wanted to answer with a resounding “ _Yes!_ ”, but for some reason he couldn’t. He stared at Mark’s hand with a mixture of confusion and horror, and Mark stared back at him incredulously.

            “What the hell are you waiting for?!” he demanded.

            Jack stuttered, his hand hovering inches from Mark’s. “I….”

            He didn’t finish. The girls successfully toppled the chair, and Jack somersaulted backward and plummeted into the beasts below.

* * *

            Jack sat straight up in the car and almost screamed, his heart beating at a million miles an hour. His head whipped around, taking his surroundings in. Eventually, reality sunk in, and he concentrated on slowing his breathing. He had to clutch his chest to get his heart to slow down.

            Mark was staring at him in shock. “Jack? Are you okay?”

            Jack nodded, even though each breath seemed to hurt on the way down. “Yeah, I just…I had a fuckin’ _nightmare_.”

            “What was it about?”

            Jack gulped and tried to recount everything. “I was…I was hangin’ off the edge of the Grand Canyon, and these…um, these _people_ were tryin’ to push me off, and I…fell.” He didn’t know why he omitted his exes and Marks’ involvement, but he didn’t go back on it. Something just felt wrong…or maybe embarrassing.

            Mark frowned. “Well, that bodes well for today’s plans,” he said flippantly. He turned off of the main road and onto what looked like a side street leading up a hill. “You’re right on time, though. We should be at the park any minute now.”

            “Okay, cool.” Jack tried to relax and settle more comfortably in this chair, but he was all antsy now. At any moment he half-expected to be ambushed or something.

            They came upon what looked like a toll booth in a clearing. Mark rolled down his window and chatted with the woman working the booth. He forked over thirty dollars for admission and drove away into the parking area, grumbling a little about prices.

            “I really need to get some work done tonight. Remind me.” He parked and gave Jack a hard look. “I’m getting behind on my projects.”

            Jack couldn’t help feeling a little responsible. He nodded, his gaze downcast. “Sorry.”

            “Dude, don’t be sorry. It’s not your fault.” Mark patted his shoulder affectionately, and Jack’s face flushed inexplicably. Before he could react, Mark stepped out of the car and took a deep breath. “Damn, it’s so much cleaner here than in L.A.,” he marveled. “I haven’t breathed clean forest air in…jeez, I guess forever.”

            Jack stepped out too, gripping the car handle unnaturally tightly. “It’s been since I left Ireland for me.” It was nice to feel it again. The air felt lighter and more refreshing, like the difference between stagnant and filtered water. “Where’s the actual canyon?”

            “I have no idea.” Mark reached into the car, grabbed a small backpack filled with God-knew-what, and began walking in a random direction towards a footpath. “C’mon, maybe we’ll find out more this way.”

            They walked down the footpath a little ways and found an information building, as well as some bathrooms (which they both utilized to brush their hair and teeth, because Mark had been smart enough to bring their toiletries along in his bag). At the front desk, Mark asked what the best and cheapest way to see the canyon was.

            “I’d suggest using one of our hiking trails,” the woman said perkily, sliding Mark a map across the counter. “It costs nothing. But I would suggest picking an easier trail if neither of you are used to the rigor of walking on dangerous terrain.”

            “Yeah, I’d rather not fall and die today,” Jack agreed, and Mark shook his head with a grin. They perused the map together, and Mark pointed at a green-colored trail.

            “Could we walk this and be done by tonight, by chance?”

            “Probably. You’ll get to see plenty of the canyon, too.” She nodded at him with a smile. “Good choice. Be sure to pack some water.”

            “I will. Thanks for your help.” Mark led Jack outside, where they took reusable water bottles and filled them up at the fountains. There were a few families and couples walking about the park, but it was mostly empty. Jack thanked the fact that they’d chosen a weekday to come here.

            “So how far above the canyon are we gonna be? I don’t really like heights,” Jack admitted somewhat sheepishly.

            Mark snorted. “Well then you picked a bad wonder of the world to come visit,” he said dryly. “I dunno, we’ll just have to see. I only know what she told me.”

            That was great. Jack sighed and resigned himself to the possibility of staring down a sheer seven hundred-foot drop. His stomach clenched at the mere thought of it.

            “Hey, dude, it’ll be okay,” Mark said with a lovely smile. Jack’s stomach flipped again for an entirely different reason. “You’re not gonna fall.”

            “You don’t know that,” he replied, giggling nervously.

            “Oh, shut up. If you fall, I’ll catch you, how about that?”

            Something about that statement struck a chord with that. _If you fall, I’ll catch you._ As they walked away from the fountains and onto a paved path winding away from the rest station, Jack cast his eyes to the sky, as if he might find answers there.

            In the dream, Mark had offered his hand, fully intending to save him.

            _If you fall, I’ll catch you._

Sure he would. But would Jack allow him to?

* * *

            They walked further and further from the building and into the wilderness, passing fewer and fewer people. After only twenty minutes or so, Mark and Jack were completely alone.

            Jack jogged to catch up. “Not so fast, I don’t like runnin’ on cliffs,” he said anxiously.

            Mark shook his head, smirking. “I’m not _running_. I’m barely even _speed walking_.”

            “Slow down anyway, it’ll make me feel better.”

            “If you don’t wanna do this, we can leave.”

            Jack shook his head, even though his nightmare was making him want to sprint out of there at the speed of light. “Nah, it’s fine. We paid the fee, it’s big, it’s beautiful; I wanna say I saw it.”

            “If you say so.” Mark began to whistle, sticking his hands leisurely in his pockets. “You’re right about it being beautiful, though. I _love_ that sky.”

            Jack smiled at it. It was cloudless, blue, and expanded to every edge of their vision. “The sky’s so weird, when you think about it,” he mused aloud. “It’s almost like a blanket.”

            “Exactly. It’s our atmosphere. Without it we’d be dying.”

            “What’s _that_ s’posed to mean? I’m not breathing the _sky_.”

            “You kind of are. Technically, since the sky is just our atmosphere, anything that isn’t Earth is sky. We’re standing _in_ the sky.”

            Jack thought about this for all of four seconds before he said, “I don’t wanna talk about this anymore. You’re givin’ me a headache.”

            Mark laughed. It sounded practically _musical_ , and Jack shoved his hands in his pockets, turning away to hide his blush. God, something was up with him. He really needed to figure out what.

            They continued walking the trail for the next few minutes, silence falling between them. It was comfortable in a way, but Jack needed stimulation to take his mind off the high altitudes they were approaching. He blurted the first thing that popped into his mind.

            “ _I can show you the world_ ,” he sang without warning. “ _Shining, shimmering, splendid…_ ”

            “ _Tell me, princess, now when did you last let your heart decide?_ ” Mark chimed in with a wide grin. Jack sighed with relief. Singing could distract him, even a song as silly as this. At least he knew all the lyrics after having listened to it a thousand times.

            “ _I can open your eyes_ ,” he rang out, smiling idiotically. “ _…take you wonder by wonder! Over, sideways, and under on a magic carpet ride—_ ”

            “ _A WHOLE NEW WORLD!_ ” Mark belted, and he actually twirled in a circle. Jack laughed gaily.

            “ _A new fantastic_ —whoa!” Mark grabbed his hand out of nowhere and spun him around vivaciously, and Jack stumbled about in a lopsided circle that almost took them both down. “Hey, if you have me fallin’ off this cliff, I’m takin’ you down with me!” he declared through fits of laughter.

            “ _A new fantastic point of view!_ ” Mark sang in rebuttal, and Jack was floored and envious of his flawlessly smooth baritone. “ _No one to tell us no, or where to go, or say we’re only dreaming…_ ”

            “ _A whole new world!_ ” Jack answered in falsetto. He’d be Jasmine if that’s what it took. Mark’s grin lit up his face, brighter and warmer than the Arizona sun, and Jack could practically feel his stomach twisting itself into knots. Mark spun him around again, but it was nothing compared to the whirling in his head.

            _Good Jesus, what’s happening to me?_

* * *

            They walked and sang for a good half hour before they caught any glimpse of the canyon.

            It spread out before them slowly, but Jack was too distracted by the song and dance to notice it at first. (That may have been intentional on Mark’s part to keep him from getting nervous.) But suddenly, while he was facing Mark and hammering out the lyrics to _Colors of the Wind_ , he felt Mark spin him around and grip his shoulders to keep him in place.

            “Be still!” Mark urged when he tried to complete the turn. “Look around! We’re here!”

            Jack blinked, becoming aware of his surroundings, and he gasped as cornily as a movie character. “Holy _shit_!”

            The huge piles of rock went on for miles and miles as far as the eye could see. It was practically an ocean of plateaus, all ringed in different colors: auburn, burgundy, beige, sepia, umber. Outcroppings of bushes existed here and there, but for the most part the land was predominantly rock. Looking at it in all its rugged glory, Jack was stricken by just how tiny he really was.

            “Holy _shit_ …,” he murmured again. He stumbled back a little bit, half in awe and half in fear of falling into it. Mark stepped up to him and took his elbow, leading him back gently until his knees bumped against a large boulder. Jack sank onto it, still rapt by the view.

            “It’s gorgeous, isn’t it?” Mark marveled.

            Jack nodded slowly, still dumbstruck. “Yeah….”

            “This is honestly _way_ better than Vegas.”

            Jack turned to him a little bit, smirking. “Weren’t _you_ the one who said this’d be lame?”

            “I said no such thing.”

            “As I recall, you called it a ‘Natureific Crack-in-the-Ground.’”

            “Your memory’s faulty, Jack. Are you sure you don’t have Alzheimer’s?”

            “Don’t be a dick.” Jack shoved at him playfully and looked back at the canyon. “God, it’s enormous. It makes me feel so small.”

            “We are small. When you look at the universe, we’re basically specks of dust.”

            “Barely that, even.” He looked down at his hands resting in his lap, his tiny, insignificant hands. “We’re almost _nothin_ ’.” Something about that hurt him almost personally. He frowned uneasily.

            Mark glanced at him a little concernedly. “Hey, don’t take it too hard,” he encouraged, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and squeezing them. “Look on the bright side. If you think about just how big the universe really is, our mistakes don’t really seem to matter.”

            “But what about our achievements?” Jack theorized. He squinted at the horizon like it would tell him the answers. “Are they just as insignificant?”

            Mark shrugged. “Maybe, but they’re important to _me_. I’ll always be proud of your achievements, Jack.”

            He smiled, feeling his chest warm with gratitude. “Thanks, Mark. I’ll always be proud of yours, too.” He seemed to realize all at once that Mark’s arm was wrapped around him, and he shifted awkwardly, not knowing whether or not to remove it or stay underneath of it and risk getting more flustered.

            Mark seemed to make the decision for him. He stood up and stretched. “Well, I love admiring the view, but we still have a lot of trail to cover if we wanna get back to the car by evening.”

            Jack stood too, the realization that he was going to have to walk parallel to the behemoth Grand Canyon for the next couple of hours hitting him hard. “Oh, Jesus, we’d better not hug the edge….”

            “I’ll walk on the outside if we do. How’s that sound?” Mark offered. Jack smiled gratefully.

            “Thank you, it’d really make me feel better.”

            Mark started off, and Jack jogged to catch up with him. His heart was still pitter-pattering in his throat, but whether that was the acrophobia or the intimacy he had no idea.

* * *

            They finished the trail before the sun set, and to Jack’s immense relief, they were never forced to wind around the side of a canyon. “It’s probably because it was a beginner’s trail,” Mark supposed as they approached the rest station again. “If we’d taken a harder trail we might’ve seen some of that.”

            “Believe me, there’s no love lost,” Jack chuckled. They refilled their water bottles (they’d drank theirs dry and were very thirsty) and walked back to the car. Jack’s feet were tingling with exertion, and he was immensely relieved to sit down again.

            “Are we drivin’ through the night again?” he asked. Mark shrugged.

            “I guess it’ll depend on if we find somewhere cheap,” he decided as he pulled out of the parking lot and towards the exit. “I’ll be honest, I’m kind of running low on funds.”

            Jack’s chest hurt with guilt. “I’m sorry. I’ll start payin’ for more, it’s not fair.”

            “No, Jack, you’re fine. Honestly. I just need to finish this one project and then I can get my commission, okay? You don’t need to worry about it.”

            Jack sucked on his lower lip. He disagreed. Even if Mark _could_ pay for most of the trip, it wasn’t fair to ask him to. But how would he get him the money instead? It’s not like he had a pile of savings sitting around waiting to be collected. He sighed, putting his chin in his hand.

            As they drove away from the Grand Canyon National Park, they came into an area of small businesses, their windows lit up with neon and spotlights for tourists to see. “They’re probably riding on the coattails of the national park,” Mark chuckled. “I wonder if we’ll find a hotel around here.”

            “Probably. Or maybe somethin’ to eat.” Jack was getting pretty hungry. They’d burnt through their hiking snacks early on. “Wanna park and see if we can find anythin’?”

            “Sold. I wanna get more than five hours of sleep tonight if I can.” Mark found a parking space next to a clothing store and got out. It was a quaint little area with cheap trinkets and southern-style cafés. It definitely had a charm that L.A. and Vegas hadn’t.

            They walked down the strip a little ways, hunting for cheap food and lodging. Jack stared into the windows, seeing cacti, tie-dyed shirts, and—yes—some snow globes. He glanced up at one sign and saw that a large dreamcatcher was hanging over the door. It advertised a trinket shop and deli inside.

            “Deli sounds cheap. Let’s try here.” He beckoned to Mark and walked inside. A silvery bell chimed above them.

            There were a few other customers, but it was mostly pretty empty. Lining the shelves were homemade soaps and ointments, as well as more dreamcatchers and some hand-stitched blankets.

            “It’s very New Age-y in here,” Mark muttered under his breath. They passed a small bookshelf, and Jack scanned the titles. Most were gardening books or religious content, but his eyes fell on one titled _1000 Dream Themes and Interpretations_. He hung back to look at it.

            “I’m gonna get my sandwich. You want anything?” Mark asked, staring at the food ravenously. Jack nodded.

            “I’ll order myself, you go ahead.” With a nod, Mark marched forward.

            Jack picked up the book and skimmed the introduction explaining that the compiled list was made of common dream themes. He cast his mind back to the nightmare that was still unsettlingly fresh in his mind. He decided on a few key words: _abyss_ , _falling_ , _nudity_ , and _roses_.

            _Abyss - To dream of an abyss signifies an obstacle that is creating much anxiety for you. You need to work through the difficulty and overcome this obstacle in your life. Perhaps you are afraid of "taking the plunge"._

Uh, okay then. Jack had no idea what that obstacle might be. He flipped to the next one.

            _Falling - To dream that you fall and are frightened indicates a lack of control, insecurity, and/or lack of support in your waking life. You may be experiencing some major struggle and/or overwhelming problem._

More of the same. Great. This was starting to get less fun by the minute.

            _Nudity - To dream that you are naked denotes fear of being found out and exposed over your activities._

It seemed more and more like Jack was afraid to face something. But what the fuck could _that_ be? Maybe his exes back home? He _had_ taken this road trip to get away from them, or rather the idea of them as a whole. But he couldn’t really think of any one ex that still brought him consistent grief. Not even Lauren did; though he still missed her a little bit, the pain was fading quickly. Sighing, he flipped to the last word.

            _Roses - To see roses in your dream signify faithfulness in love and the coming of joy in some area of your life. Roses also symbolize love, passion, desire, femininity, unity, and romance, particularly if they are red roses. If you see a white rose, then it symbolizes virginity, pureness, and secrecy. It you see a yellow rose, then it refers to infidelity, jealousy, or friendship. If the rose is pink, then it means fresh love and new romance._

Jack reread the last line. _If the rose is pink, then it means fresh love and new romance_.

            Mark had been the one holding the pink roses.

            Mark had even _offered_ him the goddamn pink roses.

            Slowly stiffening, Jack replaced the book on the shelf and stood up straight, as rigid as a wooden statue. His eyes slid over to Mark at the deli counter, pointing at various meats and vegetables to go on his sub. He stared in awe at the fluidity of his movements, the way his clothes fluttered around his body, the way his hair fell across his eyes. As if sensing that he was being watched, Mark turned a little and flashed a friendly smile in his direction.

            Jack’s heart began to pound.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I worked FAR longer on this chapter than I meant to. I was considering cutting it off before the scene in the shop, but I really needed to get this fic rolling. (I mean for God's sake, we're already on chapter 7.) So I hope you guys appreciate this!
> 
> I'm reeeeeeeeeeeally putting off my responsibilities, so we'll end with the usual. Comments and constructive criticism are always appreciated, just please be polite! :)


	8. Rascal Flatts Tells Us the Meaning of Life

            “Are you okay? You’ve been pretty quiet.”

            Jack nodded, though he couldn’t bring himself to look up from the whirling woodgrain of the table. He continued to munch on his sub slowly, not tasting anything, his mind reaching in a million different directions and making it impossible for him to think about anything.

            _God, I’m fucked. I’m so fucked. I can’t believe this. Why did this happen? Why do these things always happen to_ me _?!_

“Hello, earth to Jack?” Mark waved his hand in front of his face, smiling playfully. Jack gulped and met his eyes— _dear Jesus Christ they were so fucking brown_. It was like somebody had taken all of the warmth of a burning fire and the comfort of hot cocoa and poured them into somebody’s iris. Jack could barely contain his blush. It felt like his face was going to melt off.

            “Dude, are you okay? Are you upset or pissed or something?” Mark asked, his smile slipping off. “Should I be concerned?”

            _Probably._ “No, I’m fine,” Jack choked out, taking another bite of his sandwich to give himself something to do. “I’m just….”

            Mark wouldn’t drop his gaze. “You’re just what? C’mon, man, talk to me.”

            Jack tried to think of a way out of this but couldn’t. Even if he wanted to lie, he didn’t have a good excuse on hand, but there wasn’t the slightest chance in hell that he was going to tell him the _truth_.

            “I guess I’m just havin’ a bit of…I dunno. ‘Self-discovery’ or somethin’.” Hey, it wasn’t a lie.

            Mark’s brow furrowed. “Is it… _good_ self-discovery?” he asked confusedly.

            “I mean, I guess that all depends on perspective,” Jack half-chuckled. “It’s not really good or bad.” _Just problematic, really_ , he thought to himself. _Like, it’s not every day you find out you’re gay for your best friend. It’s slightly troubling for some people._ It was good to know he was still a sarcastic little shit even when no one was listening.

“You’re being pretty vague here, dude. Are you sure everything’s okay?”

            “Yeah, I’m fine, honest. I guess….” Jack chewed on his lower lip, trying to think of how to word things. “Okay, I came on this trip to get away from my rut, right?”

            “Yeah.”

            “Well now that I’m _out_ of it, I guess I’m seein’ things more clearly; re-evaluatin’ my life and all that.”

            “And how’s that going?”

            “I mean, kind of good I guess, because that means I can get outta my bad habits.” Jack smiled a little. “Maybe I’ll finally be independent and not need anybody. Wouldn’t _that_ be nice.”

            Mark frowned. “What, so now you’re convinced you don’t need _anybody_?” he asked, sounding hurt.

            Jack was confused. “Well…isn’t that what this whole trip was about? Tryin’ to get me to live life on my own?”

            “ _I_ thought it was about getting out of your comfort zone.”

            “That _is_ gettin’ out of my comfort zone. What’s gotten into you?”

            Mark set down his sandwich, even though there was only a bite or two left. “You’re making it sound like you don’t need _anybody_ anymore.”

            “Well of course I need _somebody_ , Mark, don’t be ridiculous. I just don’t wanna need a _relationship_.”

            “So you’re giving up on dating now?” Mark asked heatedly. Jack scooted back in his chair.

            “Now _you’re_ the one actin’ weird.”

            “I just don’t think it’s fair of you to give up just because you’ve had a couple of bad experiences.”

            “Mark, I’m not swearin’ into givin’ up! It’s not really any of your business, anyway, so why does it matter to you?”

            “Because I’m your friend!” he declared. Suddenly, he began to walk out of the store. Jack stood up quickly and followed after, forgetting the remainder of his sandwich on the table.

            “Where’re you goin’? What the hell’s wrong with you?!” He chased Mark out into the street, where the former was hotly pursuing their car. “Hey, slow down!”

            Mark stopped and turned around, looking conflicted. “I just want you to be happy, okay?” he asserted. “I’m trying to _make_ you happy, but you’re taking it all wrong.”

            “Would you please stop bein’ so goddamn _dramatic_?” Jack hissed, feeling his cheeks heat up with embarrassment as strangers turned to watch their mounting argument. “You’re makin’ a goddamn scene.”

            Mark glanced around and seemed to curl into himself a little. “Sorry,” he muttered. “I just don’t…I don’t want you to take my help in the wrong way.”

            “Well how _should_ I take your help?” Jack asked, mostly because he had no fucking clue what Mark was going on about.

            Mark gulped, rubbing his arms anxiously. He began to walk again, this time at a forced leisurely pace that looked entirely fake. “I just don’t want you to give up on anything, okay?” he sighed. “I’d rather you _shift_ your perspective than change it completely, y’know?”

            Jack thought about it for a minute or two. “Honestly, no. I have no fuckin’ clue what you’re talkin’ about.”

            Mark rolled his eyes and seemed to give up. “Just don’t give up yet, okay?” he said exhaustedly. “There’s the car. C’mon, let’s find a cheap motel.”

            Jack dropped into the passenger seat. He’d sat in it so many times now that it was starting to form to his body shape. Mark ignited the engine and merged onto the street, keeping a sharp lookout for lodging. He didn’t look quite so annoyed anymore, but he didn’t make any conversation, and he didn’t turn the radio on.

* * *

            They didn’t find any places in the little village-like area, so they decided to get onto the highway and see if they’d have better luck in the next pit stop. If not, they could trade off like they’d done the night before, despite the fact that both of them were pretty exhausted from hiking all day. Jack reclined in his chair, staring up through the sunroof at the rushing stars. He may have dozed off once or twice, but he couldn’t tell; he only remembered the way the sky looked through the sunroof, as dark as a sheet of black velvet. At the speed Mark was going, the stars above looked more like white streamers than proper specks of light.

            Actually…how fast _was_ Mark going? Jack sat up again and was unnerved to find that they were mostly alone on the road, and that Mark was going at almost one hundred miles per hour.

            “ _Hey_!” he barked suddenly, which may not have been the best idea since it startled Mark into jerking the wheel all of a sudden. “Would you slow down, please? You’re goin’ twice the speed limit!”

            Mark glanced down at the dashboard and shrugged casually. “So I am. Hey, roll your window down.”

            “ _Why_?!”

            “Just do it, please.”

            Feeling a little annoyed, Jack obediently rolled his window down. The rushing air hit him almost immediately, but at least it was warm and sweet-smelling. Mark did the same to his window and the sunroof, and with a flourish, he turned on the radio.

            “Dude, if a cop sees us, we’re gettin’ fuckin’ _arrested_ ,” Jack said anxiously.

            Mark shook his head. “C’mon, would you loosen up a little?” he drawled. “It’s a beautiful night and we’re not gonna pass a rest stop anytime soon. Just enjoy it and listen to a little music with me.”

            Jack acquiesced. It wasn’t like he could really do anything to _stop_ Mark, since he wasn’t in the driver’s seat. Mark didn’t turn the Disney CD on, but instead flipped through a radio station until they heard a familiar guitar riff.

            “Oh my God, _YES_ ,” Mark declared in ecstasy, turning up the radio as loud as it would go. Jack laughed out loud.

            “This is so fuckin’ cheesy!” he shouted, but he was drowned out by the music and the wind. It didn’t matter. He closed his eyes and let the melody hit him.

            _Life's like a road that you travel on / When there's one day here and the next day gone / Sometimes you bend, sometimes you stand / Sometimes you turn your back to the wind_

Jack wasn’t normally a Rascal Flatts fan, but the situation was too perfect not to get into it at least a little bit. He laughed out loud and glanced sideways at Mark, who was enjoying himself and singing (badly) at the top of his voice. As soon as they got to the chorus, Jack joined in.

            “ _LIFE IS A HIGHWAY!_ ” they practically screamed together. “ _AND I WANNA RIDE IT AAALL NIIIGHT LOOOOOONG!_ ”

            “Thank God we’re in the middle of nowhere,” Mark chortled, breaking off, “or else we’d be screwed.”

            Jack nodded. He was grinning so widely it hurt his face.

            “There’s somethin’ in the air, man,” he sighed contentedly, reclining back and staring up to the stars again. “I can’t even fuckin’ remember the last time I was this happy.”

            “Awww, that’s really sweet, thanks,” Mark said, sounding flattered. “I’m really happy to be here too. This has been awesome so far.”

            “It’s not over yet,” Jack reminded him, closing his eyes. “We’ve still gotta lot of ground to cover.”

            “I’m fine with that,” Mark replied. “The more time I get to spend with you one-on-one, the better.”

            Jack felt himself blush, and he turned away so that his friend wouldn’t see. The song hit the chorus again, but instead of singing, Jack unbuckled his seatbelt and stuck his head out the window. He felt the cool wind rushing over his skin, and he almost wanted to open his mouth like a dog and _taste_ it.

            “You’re crazy!” Mark laughed from the inside.

            “Of _course_ I am!” Jack cried back. But honestly, his head had never felt clearer.

* * *

            “Okay, we’re starting to get into the flyover states,” Mark announced that morning. Neither of them had slept, and they were both starting to feel it, but Jack was honestly still feeling pretty blissful. “The Four Corners monument isn’t far away, though. Wanna stop there?”

            “Yeah, sure,” Jack replied with a yawn. They’d entered a town a few miles back, finally. Seeing signs of life around him at seven in the morning was sort of a foreign concept to him, because he usually slept in late. He’d kind of assumed that everyone did.

            Mark glanced at him sideways and seemed to reconsider. “Y’know, we’re both totally exhausted,” he said candidly. “Let’s just skip it and find a hotel for the day, how’s that sound?”

            Jack nodded. “Yeah, I honestly like that idea better.” He’d seen plenty of monuments over the course of his life, and he’d see plenty more. What was one missed?

            “Okay, thank God, because I’m about to die,” Mark joked. He hunted for a cheap place to stay for a few minutes before pulling into a Holiday Inn. They checked in (just on time) and scored a cut-rate room on the ground floor. It was slightly cramped, but it had all the essentials at the very least.

            Jack flopped on the bed and was asleep embarrassingly quickly. He hadn’t even taken off his shoes. He didn’t have any other scarring dreams (thank God), but he woke up with some foggy memories of Mark and an ambiguous feeling of happiness.

            When he awoke, Mark was reclining on his bed with a bag of chips watching TV. Jack yawned and looked around for a clock.

            “What time is it?” he mumbled.

            “About eight p.m.,” Mark replied. “I tried to wake you up earlier, but you were practically _dead_.”

            “Aw, dammit, I hope I don’t stay up all night,” Jack grumbled, sitting up.

            “Relax, I brought some NyQuil.”

            “Oh, great, I can _drug_ myself to sleep.”

            “Better drugged than tossing and turning.”

            “Fair enough. Whatcha watchin’?” Jack glanced at the screen and beheld a group of men twirling and flexing onstage for a crowd of swooning women.

            “ _Magic Mike_.” He said it casually, as though reporting on the weather.

            Jack practically choked on his own spit. “ _Excuse_ me?! _Why_?!”

            Mark tried to shrug casually, but his coloring cheeks betrayed a little embarrassment. “It was the only halfway-decent thing on TV.”

            Jack figured you had to sink pretty low to turn to _Magic Mike_ for entertainment, but he didn’t comment any further. “Where’re we drivin’ tomorrow?”

            “Hopefully the Colorado national park, if we make it that far. If not then we’ll just get hotels until we get there.”

            “Now _that’s_ dedication,” Jack teased.

            “Damned straight it is.”

            Jack glanced at Mark, who was laying comfortably on the bed with his ankles crossed and his arms tucked behind his head. He tried not to let his gaze linger on the way his arms moved as he shifted, but it was difficult.

            “You know,” he half-chuckled, “‘damned straight’ isn’t necessarily the phrase I’d use while watching _Magic Mike_.”

            Mark’s brow furrowed in confusion for a second, then the next thing Jack knew he was taking a pillow to the face.

            “Oh _fuck_ you,” Mark groaned over his friend’s laughter.

* * *

            Jack did take a NyQuil that night, but it only worked for a couple of hours. He woke up around one in the morning, whether due to jitters or faulty medication or just plain insomnia, he had no idea.

            He rose out of bed after thirty minutes of tossing and turning and stood by the window, looking out over this little urban stretch of Arizona. He was suddenly struck by how _strange_ it was that he was here, rather than at home applying for second-rate positions at Walmart. What kind of life was he leading now, where he just hit the road with friends that he may or may not have a crush on? He glanced back at Mark, sleeping peacefully, his head turned towards the moonlight. He was hit by that ethereal beauty once again, with the way his hair fell over his face in waves, and the rhythmic sound of his breathing. How did something as mundane as sleeping become practically _angelic_ when Mark did it?

            It felt like Jack was on drugs. He sat down in the loveseat next to the window, resting his elbows on his knees. He tugged at his short locks fitfully, not knowing what or how to feel. Where did he go from here? Was he going to go by the advice given to him by an indie dream interpretation book and the questionable motives of his own psyche? He could write everything off as being hokey jitters or some weird form of homesickness, but he knew better. He’d spent quite a long time pretending not to feel anything, and trying to go back to that would just be losing progress.

            “Does that mean I tell him?” Jack whispered to himself. He glanced almost guiltily at Mark, slumbering away. It seemed like the next step _should_ be to tell him, but there were far too many reasons not to. For starters, Jack didn’t want to endanger their friendship; it was an age-old excuse, but it was a valid one. Mark was his best—and arguably _only_ —friend. He didn’t want to risk losing him in any sense of the word.

            For another, Jack was pretty certain Mark wasn’t gay. He didn’t have true, hard evidence to prove it, but he’d never _seen_ anything that might tip him off to the fact that Mark played for the other team. He dated women, talked about women, and generally only showed affection for women. The same couldn’t exactly be said for men. Of course, the same was true for Jack, but what did he know? He’d just spent the last four or five days rationalizing over and over again that he was _not_ falling for his best friend, and that just wasn’t true.

            _It doesn’t matter anyway_ , Jack thought to himself abruptly. _You_ can’t _get into another relationship right now._ That, if nothing else, was definitely true. Jack had come out all this way to get _away_ from his harried, lonely tendencies of falling for the nearest breathing human. For all he knew, this romantic attraction was just a manifestation of that. God knew it had gotten him into trouble before. He remembered Lauren socking him in the stomach with painful (both physical and emotional) clarity. That incident definitely didn’t deserve a repeat performance.

            Jack sighed, leaning back into his chair. It was best to just leave the whole situation alone, at least for now. Maybe by the time he got back home, the feelings would be gone, and he will have realized that it was all just a fleeting emotion. That would be good, right? He would avoid hurting anybody that way, and that was always a positive.

            Against his will, Jack looked up at Mark’s peaceful, sleeping form. Something in his gut clenched, and he gulped hard.

            If keeping his feelings to himself was the right decision, then why did it bother him so much?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I'm back with a new update!
> 
> I want you guys to let me know if this story is getting boring. I'm paranoid that it is. :/
> 
> Comments and criticism are always appreciated! Just please be polite. :)


	9. Everything Goes Wrong and It's All Jack's Fault

            “Would you mind driving today?”

            Jack yawned, looking groggily up from his subpar complimentary scrambled eggs. “Huh?” he mumbled. He wasn’t exactly the most articulate this morning.

            “Would you mind driving today?” Mark repeated. “I’m tired. It’s your turn.”

            “Mark, I’m _exhausted_. I don’t wanna fall asleep on the road.”

            Mark chewed his lower lip. “What if I bought you an energy drink?” he begged. “Please, dude, I’m sick of always driving.”

            Jack sighed. He had a bad feeling about this, but how could he say no? “Fine, but it better be the good stuff. I want high-quality liver failure.”

            “Consider it done.” Mark drank the last of his coffee and stood up to stretch. Jack looked away pointedly as he raised his arms over his head, exposing a strip of his midsection. _Jesus_ , this whole keeping quiet thing was going to be hard. “You almost done? I wanna get to the park today if we can.”

            Jack nodded, shoveling the rest of the eggs in his mouth. He stood up and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Let’s get the energy drink before we go,” he requested. “If I’m gonna drive, I need to be awake _now_.”

            “Jesus, dude, why’re you so tired?” Mark asked. They walked up to the counter, and Jack began to check out.

            “I dunno…couldn’t sleep,” he mumbled noncommittally. “I mostly just sat and stared out the window ‘til mornin’.”

            “I’m sorry. Didn’t the NyQuil help?”

            “It wore off after awhile.”

            Mark half-smiled. “You’ll sleep better tonight, I promise.” They finished checking out and walked outside. There was a gas station across the street, and they walked towards it.

            “Hell yeah I’ll sleep tonight,” Jack chuckled wearily, “’cause I’ll be fuckin’ _dead_.”

* * *

            They walked in and bought two bottles of Five Hour Energy, then walked back to the Holiday Inn parking lot because they’d been too stupid not to drive the car in the first place. Jack lumbered into the driver’s seat, having already downed one whole can. It tasted like the thickest, bitterest medicine he’d ever drank, but he could already feel it waking him up.

            “Next stop, Colorado National Park,” he said with a small flourish. He began to drive, and as soon as he’d pulled into traffic he put the Disney CD on.

            “Aw, dude, c’mon, I’m getting tired of these songs,” Mark whined. Jack shushed him.

            “I’m drivin’, I pick the music. That’s the end of it.” He turned it up and began to belt along to _I’ll Make a Man Out of You_. Mark resisted for a few measures but couldn’t resist joining in on the chorus.

            “See! It’s a good song!” Jack said triumphantly. Mark rolled his eyes.

            “It’s _catchy_ , not to be confused. _Call Me Maybe_ is catchy, but that doesn’t mean it’s a good song.”

            “Did you seriously just compare _Mulan_ to Carly Rae Jepsen?”

            “I know, I regret it too.”

            Jack smirked and jumped in at the middle of a verse. “ _You're unsuited for the rage of war / So pack up, go home, you're through / How could I make a man out of you?_ ”

            “Y’know, we never _did_ find out which one of us was manlier…,” Jack said challengingly.

            Mark laughed. “Okay, and how do you suppose we go about doing _that_?”

            “Uh…arm wrestling. That’s manly, right?”

            “The fact that you have to _ask_ if something is manly or not proves that you don’t know what you’re doing and you _aren’t_ manly.”

            “The fuck is that supposed to mean?! Manliness isn’t based on brain, it’s based on brawn.”

            “That’s what unmanly men say.”

            “Oh my _God_ , Mark Fischbasch, just _fuckin’_ _arm wrestle me already_.”

            “Okay, first of all, you can tone down the sexual tension. My name is _Mark_.”

            It hadn’t even occurred to Jack that his tone and words had sounded suggestive, but he guessed that calling somebody by their full name and demanding that they do something physical to them _could_ be sexual. His face burned like frying meat.

            “Second, I can’t wrestle you while you’re driving. I hate to say it, but I value my life more than my manliness.”

            Despite his mortification, Jack faked a gasp of shock. “My _God_ , Mark, did you just say that something is more important to you than your _manliness_?

            Mark rolled his eyes. “You’re weird, whatever. I’m doing some work.” He pulled out his laptop and began opening up programs and files, but Jack didn’t miss the small smile on his face.

* * *

            The following sequence of events Jack chose to blame entirely on Mark, for a) guilt-tripping him into driving despite his sleep deprivation, and b) being the probable cause of his insomnia in the first place, the gay-turning, moonlight-bathing fucker.

            They were quite a ways away from civilization. It seemed like their twisting route to Niagara Falls passed through a lot of uninhabited roads through fields of grass or flowers or just plain nothing. On the one hand, it was exhilarating to speed down these roads at breakneck speeds with Rascal Flatts blaring on the radio, but without either of those two things it got pretty boring, especially when Mark was too engrossed in his work to talk. (But Jack didn’t mind, since his sponsorship of their trip depended on his ability to complete freelance work on the way.)

            Jack was paying attention to the road and singing along softly to the Disney CD, which he’d since turned way down so that Mark could focus. So it was _not his fault_ that he wasn’t looking at the dashboard and didn’t have any warning before the car began to putter and slow down.

            Mark looked up in confusion, his brow furrowing. “What’s going on? Are we broken down?”

            “I dunno, I don’t think so,” Jack answered quickly, feeling slightly panicked. If he’d done something to Mark’s car, he was fucked. He had terrible insurance, especially since he didn’t have any ownership on this car.

            He pulled over, because their speed was dropping into single digits despite the fact that he was practically flooring the gas. He set it in park, and Mark immediately leaned over to get a sense of the dashboard.

            Within a minute, he groaned in annoyance. “You fucking dingus, we’re out of gas!”

            Jack looked down in horror. The needle had dipped past E. Not knowing what else to say, he just muttered, “Oh.”

            Mark sighed, shaking his head. He sat back in his chair, saved his work, and closed his laptop. “Now what?” he wondered aloud.

            Jack gulped. He looked up at Mark, wanting to catch his eye but being afraid to at the same time. “I…I’m sorry,” he murmured nervously.

            Mark shook his head again. “Don’t worry about it, it’s fine,” he said, but his exasperated sigh told a different story. “It’s my fault too, I should’ve known the car was getting empty. Jeez, when did we even fill it up last?”

            “I can’t remember.”

            “That’s just great.” Mark sighed and stepped out of the car. He did a little circuit around it while Jack sat tensely in his seat, too nervous to move. Mark stopped back at his door, placing his hand on the roof and leaning on the car heavily.

            Swallowing, Jack found the balls to step outside. “Wanna call a tow truck?” he suggested.

            Mark pulled his phone out of his pocket and swore. “No signal out here in BFE.”

            “So what do we do now?”

            Mark shrugged. “I dunno. Walk?” he said, clearly stumped. “Just pick a direction and walk until we see a building, I guess. Preferably a gas station.”

            “What about the car? Are we just gonna leave it here?”

            “We are unless you wanna push it.”

            Jack wasn’t a big fan of that idea. Sighing, he reached in and pulled out Mark’s little backpack, stuffing the snacks in the backseat, his laptop, and the GPS inside. “Is there anything else valuable in here?” he asked resignedly.

            “No, I don’t think so…there better not be, anyway.”

            Jack shouldered the bag. Since he was the one that got them into this mess, he figured he should at least carry the heavy object while they marched off into the netherworld.

            “You lead the way,” he told Mark. “Find us civilization.”

            Mark half-smiled, but it was tense. “I wouldn’t trust me too much. I’m not exactly a Boy Scout.” Sighing, he turned in the direction they’d been driving and began to walk resolutely. Steeling himself for a possible ten-mile trek, Jack followed close beside him.

* * *

            On the bright side, the view was beautiful: desert on all sides, a burning horizon, and complete solitude. Trekking down the Arizona desert on an empty road was practically an introvert’s dream.

            On the other hand, it was also hotter than Satan’s sweaty ball sack.

            “God _dammit_ ,” Jack whined after managing to stay silent for an hour. He couldn’t take it anymore. “My feet hurt and I’m sweatin’ like a fuckin’ maniac!”

            “Welcome to the club, we have T-shirts,” Mark mumbled under his breath.

            “Do we have _any_ idea where we’re goin’?” Jack demanded. “Where’s the map? Did you bring it?”

            “I didn’t bring anything. If it’s not in your bag we don’t have it.”

            Jack pouted. He hadn’t thought to grab it. It was probably still sitting in the glove compartment.

            “ _Dammit_ , this sucks. I should’ve gotten gas.”

            “You’re not wrong,” Mark shrugged.

            “It’s not my fault though. I told you I was exhausted.”

            “Well now you’ll get as much sleep as you’ve ever wanted, ‘cause you’ll be dead,” Mark simpered.

            Jack rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help smiling. “You’re an ass.”

            They walked for twenty more minutes, during which time Jack’s feet began to throb so painfully that he finally groaned aloud and sat down on the side of the road. Mark glanced back at him in puzzlement.

            “Uh…you okay? You’re not dying, are you?”

            “No, but I _wish_ I was,” he groused, massaging his foot over his shoe. “My feet fuckin’ hurt. I’m sorry I sound whiny, but they really do.”

            “You should’ve warn more comfortable shoes,” Mark said mock-accusingly. He crossed his arms and grinned smugly at his padded Nikes.

            “Well _excuse me_ , I didn’t know we’d be hikin’ through Buttfuck, Egypt today.” Jack sighed and flexed his feet, trying to work some life back into them, but it was no good. They throbbed and tingled even as he sat down.

            Mark sighed theatrically. “ _Fine_ , if you insist,” he said abruptly, kneeling on the ground. He waited patiently there.

            Jack squinted at him. “The fuck are you doin’?”

            “Waiting for you to get on my back.”

            Jack immediately felt a blush creeping onto his cheeks, and he covered it with a laugh. “Dude, I don’t need you to carry me!”

            “Well you’re _obviously_ gonna be a while, and I don’t feel like waiting for you.” He glanced over his shoulder, and Jack noticed with a pang in his chest that his eyes were glittering in the sun. “C’mon, I can carry you. You only weigh like ten pounds.”

            Jack rolled his eyes. “Ten pounds of _pure muscle_ ,” he lied, acquiescing. He stood up, shouldered the backpack, and lowered himself awkwardly over Mark’s back.

            “So how’s this gon—?” Before he could say anything else, Mark’s arms locked around his thighs, and Jack was suddenly swinging up in to the air. “ _Shit_! Holy—!”

            “Relax, I’m not gonna drop you!” Mark chortled. His grip felt strong, but just to be on the safe side, Jack wrapped his arms tightly around his shoulders.

            “You sure about this?” he asked nervously. Mark nodded, and Jack got a big mouthful of his hair.

            “Trust me. I’ve carried heavier people,” he said breezily, leaving Jack to wonder what the fuck that meant. Mark began to walk, and there was no change in his gait. It was as though Jack wasn’t riding along on his back at all.

            After a minute or two, the situation actually became enjoyable. Jack’s feet were resting and he didn’t have to walk. There was the added benefit of having almost every part of his body pressed against Mark’s, including his hips and thighs, which were really complicating matters down south. He gulped, feeling his face burn. He had to resist the urge to hide in Mark’s hair.

            “You all right back there?” Mark asked.

            “Yeah, why?”

            “You keep wiggling.”

            “Sorry,” he said sheepishly. He’d been doing it in an effort to stave off anything that his body might do to…well, give him away.

            “It’s fine, just be still. I’ll be able to walk faster.”

            Jack nodded, but a small, restless part of him had half a mind to keep wiggling as much as possible, because suddenly he wanted the hike to last forever.

* * *

            The sun dipped lower and lower in the sky as they walked, until Jack lost track of time. Somehow, Jack ended up with his head rested on the back of Mark’s shoulder, his face turned towards his warm-smelling hair. He didn’t realize he’d done it until he suddenly jerked up, his face practically sizzling.

            “Well good morning,” Mark asked amusedly.

            “Good mornin’? Was I asleep?”

            “I think so. You snored.”

            “Oh, fuck me, was I _really_? I’m so sorry.”

            “Don’t be, it was sorta funny,” Mark said with a smile in his voice.

            “How long’ve we been walkin’?” Jack asked. He looked around him and saw that they were passing miles and miles of lettuce fields.

            “I haven’t checked. An hour maybe?”

            “ _How_ have you ben carryin’ me for _over an hour_?!”

            “I’m strong as hell, maybe?”

            “Fuckin’ _Christ_ , fine, you win. You’re the manliest if you can piggyback me for ten miles.”

            “Thanks for telling us all what we already knew,” Mark said smugly, and Jack groaned and decided to cover his eyes in revenge.

            “ _Ah_ , get off, I can’t see!”

            “Good!” Jack used both hands, and in retaliation Mark began reached one hand behind him and tickled his ribcage. Immediately, he was squirming and laughing. “ _Get off get off get off_!”

            “You get off first!” Mark continued relentlessly, and it was a game of who would cave first. Jack dangled precariously off of his back, his feet kicking and laughing like crazy, clinging desperately to Mark’s face. He swung both legs off of him in self-defense and ended up overbalancing both of them.

            Down the both fell, Jack landing flat on his back. Mark tried to break his fall with his elbow, but he only succeeded in scraping it. The back of his head hit Jack’s chest hard, and all of the air left him in a whoosh.

            “Oh, _God_ ,” he gasped, coughing and nursing a throbbing spine. But he couldn’t admit to not enjoying Mark being completely prone on top of him. The latter tried to sit up, but he seemed to be in pain too, clutching his elbow to his chest.

            “Great. We’re gonna die here,” Mark groaned dryly. Jack laughed, closing his eyes while he tried to ride out the pain.

            “This is it? You’re givin’ up? This is how it ends?”

            “Well I sure hope not, ‘cause I’d hate to deal with the police report of two city slickers dyin’ on my property.”

            The voice was unfamiliar, and it scared the living piss out of Jack. His eyes flew open and he scrambled away, staring up at an amused, leathery old man with a smile and a wide-brimmed hat.

            “Wh-what the—?” Jack stammered as his heart tried to recover. The old man laughed.

            “Sorry, kiddo, didn’t mean t’ scare yeh,” he said, and his voice was kind. “What brings yeh two boys in th’ middle o’ my farm?”

            “The middle…sir, this is a public road, right?” Mark asked, still sitting on the ground. Jack saw that his elbow was bleeding, and he felt a little guilty.

            “Sure, but both sides of it’re my property,” the man explained. “Th’ name’s Michael, but th’ kids ‘round here call me Pa. What’s yers? I’m sorry t’ startle yeh, but me n’ th’ wife don’ normally get visitors, especially foreign ones.”

            Jack laughed a little. “Uh, yeah, I bet not. I’m Jack, that’s Mark.”

            “Our car broke down about…I dunno, a few hours back that way,” Mark clarified, pointing down the road. “We don’t get any cell phone service down here, so we’ve just been walking and hoping to find some sort of gas station.”

            “You picked a bad direction t’ walk in,” Pa said gravely. “The nearest station’s ‘bout ten miles away.”

            “Ugh, great,” Jack grumbled. He started to stand up. “Sorry about trespassin’, sir.”

            “It’s no trouble.” Pa smiled at them warmly. “Why don’t you come back t’ th’ house with me? I’ve got a landline you can use t’ call a tow.”

            Mark’s eyes lit up. “Would you really let us do that? Thank you so much.” He scrambled to his feet and offered a hand, which the man shook firmly.

            “It’s no trouble, boys.” He beckoned them forward between the lettuce crops, and Mark and Jack were all too eager to follow.

            “Besides,” Pa laughed, “a couple’a handsome boys like the two’a yeh? My wife’ll be _thrilled_ t’ see yeh.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long hiatus! It's been a busy week.
> 
> I'm glad this chapter generated a little conflict. It was also way too much fun to write a piggyback ride in there, lol.
> 
> Comments and constructive criticism always appreciated! Just be polite. :)


	10. The "We Only Have One Bed for You to Share" Cliché

            “ _Charlene_! We’re home!”

            Pa led Mark and Jack into a large, homey-looking house with a wraparound porch. The first room they stepped into was the kitchen, tiled green, with a wood burning stove and a big chandelier.

            “Jesus, this place is _huge_ ,” Mark whispered under his breath.

            A woman came rounding around the corner and smiled brightly. She wore a floral housedress and had a very grandmotherly face, and Jack liked her instantly.

            “Well, Mike, who have we here?” she asked in a delighted voice, which struck Jack as a weird reaction to seeing strangers in one’s home. She glanced at him and Mark up and down with a keen, lingering eye, and she grinned mischievously.

            “Two stragglers I found on th’ side’a th’ road.” Mike laid his hat on the kitchen table and kissed his wife’s cheek. “Meet Mark an' Jack. Their car broke down about five miles down th' road.”

            “Oh, that’s terrible! Did you call a tow?” she asked them.

            Mark shook his head. “We couldn’t get any connection,” he explained, showing her his cell phone. She tutted disapprovingly.

            “Damn phones they make these days, they’re never any good. We’ve got a working one you boys can use.”

            “That’s what we were told,” Jack said gratefully. “Thank you so much for doin’ this, it’s a big help.”

            “No problem! Say, where’s that accent from?” Charlene asked excitedly. She pulled out chairs at the kitchen table and waved them over to sit.

            “Um, Ireland, ma’am,” Jack said humbly, sitting at her insistence.

            “ _Fascinating_. What brings you all the way from Ireland to the middle of Arizona, hon?”

            “Well, we—” Jack was interrupted by a calamity upstairs that sounded like a tree being cut down.

            Pa grumbled and began walking towards the stairs near the back of the house. “Damn kids… _hey_! _Yeh settle down up there_!”

            “Sorry about the noise. My daughter and grandkids are visiting this weekend,” Charlene told them apologetically.

            “No, it’s no trouble,” Mark hastened to say. “We’re the ones that are intruding.” He looked at Pa. “Do you know of a tow company I can call?”

            “I gotta phone book yeh can use,” he replied. “C’mere, I’ll show yeh.” Mark followed him into an adjacent hallway.

            Jack shifted awkwardly. “Um, thank you for being so hospitable,” he offered to Charlene.

            “It’s our pleasure. We don’t get many visitors…besides my daughter, anyway.” Charlene smiled at him brightly. “So what were you saying about being all the way down here?”

            “Oh, right. Me and my friend Mark are doin’ a little road trip.”

            “Oh, your ‘friend’ you say?” She smiled at him crookedly. “That’s _adorable_.”

            Jack nodded, not understanding her fixation. “We’re tryin’ to go to Niagara Falls, but I dunno if we’re gonna get that far. We’ve still got a long way to go and we’re runnin’ outta money.”

            “Oh, that’s too bad. But it’s just as well.” Charlene grinned mischievously. “At least you get to spend a little quality time together.”

            “Uh, yeah…I guess.”

            Another loud crash sounded above. The old woman’s face instantly turned into annoyance, and she leapt up from her chair. “ _Keep it down up there_!” she barked, making Jack jump. “ _Or else I’ll come up there and give you what for myself_!”

            “Where’s your daughter?” Jack asked her, wondering if the kids were unattended.

            “Probably in town with her new boyfriend getting some _much-needed_ alone time away from those little devils,” she said dryly. “I’m sure you know all about that, right hon?”

            Jack’s brow furrowed. “Uh…I dunno what’cha mean.”

            Charlene laughed smugly. “Oh, c’mon darling, you don’t need to pretend for me. Just because I’m Southern doesn’t mean I don’t see what’s right in front of me.”

            “I…I’m sorry, _what_?” Jack couldn’t have been more confused if he tried.

            Mark and Pa returned, the former looking a little worse for wear. Jack frowned worriedly. “Is everything okay?”

            Mark sighed. “Could be better. The tow company closes in ten minutes, so they said they can’t get to us until morning.”

            “Oh, that’s terrible! They should make an exception. You called before the end of the workday,” Charlene said angrily. “If you boys need a place to stay until then, you’re welcome here.”

            “No, we don’t want to impose,” Jack countered, even though he had no idea where else they’d sleep tonight.

            “Don’ be silly!” Pa admonished. “We ain’t gonna turn th’ two’a yeh out on th’ street.”

            Mark smiled, looking surprised. “Thank you…that’s so nice, really.”

            “It’s Southern hospitality, darling,” Charlene said with a small smile. She stood up. “My daughter should be home any minute now, so I need to put dinner on. You two are welcome to eat some too. I hope you like meatloaf.”

            “If yeh di’n’t before, yeh will once yeh getta taste a’ Charlene’s,” Pa chipped in, smiling eagerly. “It’s like a li’l taste’a heaven right on yer plate!”

* * *

            Pa and Charlene’s daughter Madeleine returned with her boyfriend just as dinner was being served. The enormous meal was served practically buffet style in the dining room, which was furnished with a long redwood table and huge French windows that illuminated dinner with the setting sun.

            “This is a _gorgeous_ property,” Mark said to Charlene over the din of the seven kids each clamoring to be heard over one another while eating. “Does it take a lot to maintain?”

            “Oh, it’s a bitch to clean if that’s what you mean,” she answered candidly, and Jack almost choked on his drink. He wouldn’t have expected such a sweet old lady to use language, and it was almost hilarious. “But it’s worth it. Pa and the hired hands pick lettuce all day, and I keep the house and cook the food. It’s old living, but it’s good money, and it certainly makes for a beautiful home.”

            “You’re right about that. I’d kill to live in a house like this,” Mark said wistfully.

            “A young guy like you, out here in the middle of Arizona?” She cackled almost like a witch. “Hon, you’d get lonely quick.”

            “Not me. I’m a _huge_ introvert. The only thing that’d get me is the heat.”

            “Yup, heat and loneliness would do you in.” She smiled slowly and took a sip of her drink, which happened to be red wine. “But I suppose you’ve got your ‘friend’ over there to keep you company.”

            Jack and Mark both picked up on the emphasis, and Mark said, “What do you mean by that?”

            Charlene raised a hand in faux surrender. “You two don’t have to admit to anything you don’t wanna admit to,” she said evasively. “I’m only saying that you two probably keep each other _very_ good company as it is.”

            “Well…yeah, I guess so,” Mark said, nonplussed. “I mean, we’ve been friends for several years now.”

            “My oh my, I wish I had a friend as handsome as yours, Mark.” She leaned in conspiratorially. “And by God, _Irish_ too! Lord, I wish there had been more foreign fruit to taste when I was young like you.”

            It still took Jack a few moments to understand.

            “Wait, no, you’ve got the wrong idea!” he interjected, his face turning a brilliant scarlet. “Mark and I—we aren’t, no, I mean, we’ve never—he isn’t—” It dawned on Mark, too, and he raced to join the denial party.

            Charlene cut them both off. “Boys, don’t think that I’m gonna shame you!” she said loudly, drowning out their pleas. “There’s a God in heaven who won’t judge either of you for the life you’ve chosen to live, and it ain’t my place to do so either.”

            “Ma’am, we’re not afraid of being—uh, ‘shamed’, or whatever,” Mark told her forcefully. “Jack and I aren’t a couple.”

            “Yeah, we’re not even—uh, well, we—” He didn’t know how to say it without risking offense.

            “You’re not _gay_?” Charlene finished. They both nodded vigorously, and she shook her head. “All right, boys, whatever you say. But I’m not much in the way of liars.”

            “We’re not lying, ma’am,” Jack plead. He looked to Pa for backup, but he was sipping his wine and staring out the window pretending not to hear a thing.

            “Maybe you don’t _think_ you are,” she answered cryptically, and that was all she had to say on the matter.

            The dinner was truly excellent, despite the awkward encounter. Madeleine was funny and interesting, and her boyfriend was much the same (although he appeared to be a good deal younger than her). The grandkids were all hilarious despite their tendency to shout, and all of them (including Madeleine herself) were completely enamored with Jack’s accent.

            “Say a tongue-twister!” one of them commanded at some point, and Jack laughed.

            “What should I say?” he asked.

            “Say ‘Park the car in Harvard yard,’” Madeleine suggested. Jack repeated her, and while he didn’t understand what was so funny about his pronunciation, it had the kids practically rolling with laughter.

            “All right, all right! Everybody settle down, let’s stop playing with the poor Irishman’s voice,” Charlene insisted. The kids fell silent. “It looks like it’s getting pretty late. I’d even say it’s close to bedtime.”

            The kids groaned, and Pa stepped in. “I don’ want no whinin’! Ev’rybody get on up t’ bed. Brush yer teeth, wash yer faces. Me n’ Ma will be up soon t’ read yeh some stories.”

            Grudgingly, the kids got up, herded by Madeleine into what Jack assumed were the upstairs bedrooms. Charlene followed them, leaving Pa alone with Mark and Jack, who were standing awkwardly next to the table.

            “Do you want any help cleaning up?” Mark offered politely, gesturing to the huge array of dirty dishes.

            Pa smiled. “Tha’s very kind of yeh, but Ma won’ take no help from nobody,” he chuckled. “I’m sure th’ two’a yeh’re bone tired anyway.”

            Now that he mentioned it, Jack _did_ feel like he was about to drop dead. He nodded, feeling the weight of last night’s bad sleep and the miles he hiked weighing down on him.

            “I’ll go ahead and show th’ two’a yeh t’ yer room.” He led them upstairs with the others and down a long hall bordered by a few bedrooms. One of them housed the older kids as they got dressed and laughed at each other’s’ jokes, while another held the younger ones as they bounced half-naked on their beds. Madeleine and her boyfriend had their stuff splayed out in the third.

            “Which ones are we stayin’ in?” Jack asked, looking for a guest room.

            “This one’s yer’s,” Pa replied, showing them the last room at the end of the hall.

            Mark and Jack peered inside. It was relatively small compared to the others, with a dresser, a vanity, and one queen bed sandwiched inside.

            “I’m sorry, boys,” Pa said apologetically behind them. “We only got one bed left fer th’ two’a yeh. Yeh don’ mind sharin’, right?”

            Jack shook his head quickly, largely because the gravity of the situation hadn’t fully dawned on him yet. “No sir, that’s perfectly fine.”

            “Tha’s good.” Pa gestured for them to walk in. “There’s extra clothes in the dresser tha’ yer welcome t’ wear if yeh want. Th’ bathroom’s at th’ other end a’ th’ hall if yeh need it. We got extra toothbrushes in th’ med’cine cabinet fer yeh.”

            “We can’t tell you how much we appreciate this,” Mark interjected. “You really saved our butts by doing this.”

            “Son, it’s all a pleasure,” Pa assured him. He yawned. “Well, if y’all’ll excuse me, it’s past me an’ Ma’s bedtime. Sleep tight, you two, and don’ misbehave none.” He winked at them and walked away before they could so much as open their mouths to reply.

* * *

            Mark and Jack stood awkwardly in the room before Mark shrugged and moved to the dresser. He shed his shirt and exposed himself like it was nothing, pulling out an old cotton T-shirt and stepping out of his jeans into his boxers. He then walked straight past Jack (who was standing rigidly, mouth practically agape) and flopped backwards onto the bed with a groan.

            “Thank _God_. I’m exhausted,” he said huskily. His eyes were closed, his hair rumpled, his glasses askew. Jack stared at him in his incredibly relaxed, unguarded state, and he truly learned the meaning of self-control by not throwing himself upon him right then.

            Instead, he forcibly made his way over to the dresser and pulled out a T-shirt without looking at it, throwing his own off and changing. Mark opened his eyes as Jack sat on the bed next to him, not quite confident enough to lay down next to him.

            _Oh God…one bed_ , he thought suddenly as the realization hit him. He would be sleeping next to Mark, probably touching at some points due to the confined space, for the _entire night_. How was he supposed to keep his composure for an entire _night_?! For Christ’s sake, he’d barely been able to keep it together just by standing two feet _away_ from the bed, much less _in_ it.

            Mark, however, seemed completely unfazed. Jack envied him.

            “C’mon, what’re you waiting for? Lay down. It’s late and I wanna go to bed,” he insisted, and Jack cautiously laid his head on the pillow and got under the sheets. Mark turned over so that he was facing him, his glasses still sitting lopsidedly on his face, and Jack gulped so hard that it hurt his throat.

            “You okay, dude? You look like you’re in pain.”

            Jack laughed a little, mostly because the assumption was so absurd.

            “Uh, yeah, I’m fine. Just a little uncomfortable.”

            “Why? Is your side of the bed hard or something?”

            _Not the bed, no_. “It’s not that, it’s just…I’ve never shared a bed with you, y’know?”

            “Aw, you’re worried about that?” Mark smiled amusedly, and it lit up his face so completely that Jack’s heart threatened to fly out of his chest. “We’ve spent nights together tons of times. It’s not like this is any different.”

            Jack nodded, tucking his hands under the pillow in an effort to be more comfortable. He tried to think of just how many times he _had_ stayed at Mark’s place or him at Jack’s, but he quickly lost count.

            “Damn…we’ve been friends for a long fuckin’ time, haven’t we?” he murmured, feeling like it was just dawning on him.

            “Well duh, of course we have. You know that.”

            “Yeah, but…I guess I never really thought about it before.” Jack wondered how much of that time he’d spent subconsciously having feelings for Mark. It was a dizzying thought, and he tried to forget it as soon as it popped into his head. “Hey, here’s a question. Why’d you decide to be friends with me in the first place?”

            Mark squinted at him confusedly. “What kind of a question is _that_?”

            “A perfectly valid one!” Jack protested. Jesus, they were lying close to each other. Jack could practically feel Mark’s breath on his throat. He hadn’t shared a bed with anyone since…well, since Lauren, he guessed, the last time they slept together. That didn’t exactly help the situation.

            “Fine. I guess it’s because you were the only other guy in our grade that hadn’t gone to school with everyone else for the past eight years.”

            Jack laughed a little. It had been his first year in America, and Mark’s first year in L.A., and they’d gone to the same high school. It had been such an awkward period of his life that made Jack cringe, thinking about his stupid T-shirts and his social anxiety and his weird obsession with computer science.

            “You were also the only other kid in our computer class that actually gave a shit about computers,” Mark added, reminiscing. “I remember every time we did projects, I’d beg my teacher to let me work with you because you were the only other kid that actually _tried_.”

            “Well yeah, of course I tried! The projects were fun…not that my partner ever did any of the work, of course.”

            “Yeah, same here. Anyway, I guess that’s why we became friends.”

            Jack nodded. He wanted to close his eyes, but he couldn’t bring himself to look away from Mark’s heavy-lidded, unfiltered face as they both teetered on the brink of sleep. The latter yawned loudly, looking completely spent.

            “I’m sorry about getting us stuck out here,” Jack muttered suddenly. Mark woke up a little.

            “Dude, it’s not your fault. Besides, this is kinda fun. I like being here with you.”

            “Yeah, but I set the trip back. We probably won’t even be able to afford Niagara at this point.”

            “Who cares? I don’t need to see Niagara for this to be a fun trip. I just wanted to make you feel better, y’know?”

            Jack’s eyes closed, even though he was trying his hardest to stay awake. God knew what he’d do while he slept. Maybe this time he’d have a nightmare about getting stuck inside Mark’s washing machine or something.

            “I appreciate that, Mark. Thank you.” He nestled deeper into the blankets. He was so warm. This bed was shockingly comfortable. “I don’t deserve to have a friend like you….”

            “Hey, shut up. Of course you do. Now go to sleep.”

            Jack agreed that that was a very good idea. He pulled the blankets up to his chin and took a deep breath. He was asleep before he breathed it all out again.

* * *

            At some point during the night, Jack woke up halfway and could have sworn that someone was holding him. He paused in his breathing, opening his eyes a little, but the room was completely dark. Still, he was sure he felt someone’s arm slung across his waist.

            Jack wanted to roll over and see if he was right, but he was just so tired and it seemed like too much effort. He felt the rise and fall of a chest on his back, and the sensation was oddly comforting. With a soft sigh, he nestled his head on his pillow and fell back asleep, feeling the warmth of the bed and his sleeping companion pressed against him.

            He'd never slept better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I'm baaaaaack! :D
> 
> Sorry about my week-long hiatus, the last week before fall break was spent studying for my math test (a futile effort) and reading the entirety of Hamlet and writing an essay on it in four days. :/ But now I'm back and it's fall break, so hopefully I'll churn out chapters faster and maybe even get this fucker DONE. (But I make no promises.)
> 
> Comments and constructive criticism are greatly appreciated! Just be polite. :)


	11. A Self-Respecting American Road Trip

            The next morning, Jack woke up to Mark sitting on the edge of the bed holding a big, unfolded map. The sunlight coming through the window was blinding, seeping all over the bedspread and Mark’s back. Every curve and ripple of his back visible through the T-shirt he’d taken from the dresser the night before, and suddenly the fact that the two of them had slept in the same bed together the night before dizzied Jack to the point where he had to sit up just to think straight.

            “Oh, hey, good morning Sleeping Beauty,” Mark joked as he felt the bed shift.

            “‘Sleeping Beauty’? What time is it?”

            “Almost noon.”

            Jack was shocked. “That’s crazy,” he muttered, rubbing his eyes.

            “Dude, you were completely _out._ I woke up and could’ve sworn you were dead.” Mark turned around on the bed, sitting cross-legged with the map in his lap to face him.

            “Yeah? How’d you sleep?” Jack asked. “Did I wake you up durin’ the night? I know I roll around a lot while I sleep.”

            He was surprised to see Mark’s face redden. “Well, uh…no, I-I slept fine, I’m fine.” He cleared his throat and pushed the map into the middle of the bed. “Okay, so I was looking over our route again. We might have to change some stuff due to budget.”

            Jack gulped. “Okay, how so? Have we spent too much money?”

            “Not necessarily, it’s just taking a little longer for the project I finished to generate any profit,” he said nonchalantly. “It’s no biggie, it happens sometimes. But it means we’ve gotta be more frugal while we wait for the check to come through.”

            Jack’s brow furrowed. “That seems kinda worryin’,” he admitted. Mark shook his head.

            “Nope, it’s normal in the cutthroat world of web design,” he said dryly. “Anyway, what I’m getting at is I don’t know if we’re gonna make it all the way to Niagara Falls.”

            Jack nodded. “That’s fine. I understand.”

            Mark looked up. “You’re not disappointed? You promise?”

            “No, dude, it’s completely fine. Where do you want our ending destination to be, then?”

            “Well…we could probably make it to Cincinnati before the money runs out,” he replied. “I’ve got family there, obviously. We could visit my mom and brother…but only if you want to. I mean, I was planning on stopping there anyway on the way to New York, but if you’re not comfortable with an extended stay—”

            “I am, dude, that sounds like fun,” Jack interjected, smiling. “It’s been since…what, high school since I talked to your family? It’ll be fun to see them again.”

            “Yeah, great, I’m glad you’re onboard,” Mark gushed, beaming. “Okay, so we’ll do that. We can check out Chicago when we drive through it, too, but that’s a lot of space to fill in between. We can’t really afford to stop at many more places along the way, either, meaning there’s gonna be a lot of driving between here and Ohio.”

            “That’s fine. We can just drive straight through most of it. It shouldn’t actually take that long if we don’t make too many stops.” Jack shifted uncomfortably. “Listen, dude, do you need any help payin’ for anythin’? I feel terrible takin’ all your money like this.”

            “Jack, if you don’t stop worrying about money I’m gonna kick you in the balls. I promise, _it is fine_.”

            Jack nodded, because Mark’s smile and slightly-exasperated voice seemed pretty convincing, but the guilt didn’t exactly go away.

            “I’m gonna pay you back somehow, okay?” he vowed suddenly. Mark opened his mouth, but Jack cut in, “You can’t talk me out of it. I’m gonna do it, you’ll see. I swear.”

            Mark rolled his eyes. “Whatever, Jack, I’m not gonna take the money even if you _do_ somehow get it,” he countered. He stood up and stretched. “C’mon, now that you’re awake let’s say goodbye and get in the car. The tow company brought it by a few hours ago.”

* * *

            The kids weren’t very happy to see Jack go, and a few of them were actually moved to tears and hugged his legs in an effort to keep him from going out the door. (Madeleine and Charlene were able to remove them with a fair amount of scolding.)

            “Yeh boys be careful out there, alright?” Pa advised them, giving them each a firm handshake. “Not ev’rybody’s as nice as me n’ Ma.”

            “We know, sir, and we promise we’ll watch ourselves,” Mark promised.

            “Good, and watch your gas as well,” Charlene chipped in, smacking Jack lightly on the shoulder. “I don’t wanna hear that you two broke down anywhere else and had to walk five miles, are we clear?”

            Jack chuckled, blushing a little. “I won’t let the car run outta gas again.”

            “Yeah, ‘cause you won’t be _driving_ it again,” Mark added, but he smiled jokingly. “Thanks again for taking us in, I can’t thank either of you enough.”

            Charlene smiled good-naturedly. “It was our pleasure,” she told them. She brought them both in for a hug and handed Jack a slip of paper. “Write your phone number down here, sweetie. I’ll be calling a few times to make sure everything’s going okay for you boys.”

            Jack chuckled. “Oh, we really don’t need—”

            “Don’t argue with me, now,” she scolded. “If you two can break down in the middle of Arizona, there’s no telling what other trouble you can get into.”

            Jack shook his head, but he obediently recorded his number and gave it to her. They said their goodbyes and loaded their backpack into the car, back in place and filled with gas. (“I had to pay extra for that,” Mark explained, which only furthered Jack’s guilt.)

            “Okay, now what?” Jack asked. Mark began to drive, and it felt good to be in a motor vehicle again.

            “We’re gonna have to skip the other national park, unfortunately,” Mark replied. “So we can probably cut through Colorado and get at least halfway through Kansas by sundown. How’s that sound?”

            Jack shrugged, leaning his seat back. “Dude, I have a pretty vague grasp on American geography, so I’ll take your fuckin’ word for it.”

            Mark laughed. “C’mon, you went to high school here! You were never quizzed on the fifty states?”

            “Oh I was, but I can pretty much guarantee I flunked it.”

            “You’re an idiot.”

            “It’s not _my_ fault that Texas is fifty times bigger than the _entire fucking country_ of Ireland!”

            “So? I expect you to know absolutely _everything_ about my country now that you live in it,” Mark teased.

            Jack rolled his eyes. “I know the presidents,” he mumbled, crossing his arms in a fake-pout.

            “Fine. Name them.”

            “There’s Washington, Adams, Jefferson, Madison…uh, Lincoln, Roosevelt, the other Roosevelt—there were two, right? I think there were. Uh…George Bush, he was a thing…oh, there was Clinton, and there’s Obama, he’s a president. Yeah. There, I got ‘em all.”

            Mark was barely suppressing his laughter. “I think you might’ve missed a few in there, buddy.”

            “Aw, who fuckin’ cares? I’m puttin’ the CD in.” Jack hit play just as Mark groaned.

            “No! I am _so sick_ of Disney!”

            “ _Sorry_!” Jack hollered, turning it up to full blast. “ _I can’t hear you over how fuckin’ dead the Huns are gonna be after I make a man outta you_!”

* * *

            They drove for about four or five hours, during which time Mark beat Jack twice at ABC Highway and they listened to the Disney CD so many times that Mark threatened to smash it and stick the broken shards in a very personal area of Jack’s body if he played it one more time.

            “Well Jesus, fine, if we’re gonna get violent,” Jack retorted as he put it back in its case. Without thinking, he mumbled, “I figured if you were gonna touch me there you’d at least be gentle about it—”

            “ _What’d_ you say?” Mark demanded, whipping his head around. Jack realized what had happened and suddenly felt his face and neck get sizzling hot.

            He panicked. “Uh—uh, nothin’, I—I didn’t say anythin’!”

            Mark stared at him for a few more seconds before looking back at the road. They were on an interstate in Colorado, and Jack figured they _had_ to be almost to Kansas by now for as long as they’d been driving.

            “It sounded like—”

            “I’m turnin’ on the radio,” Jack announced loudly, punching the on button. A Nicki Minaj song blared through the speakers, and Mark shook his head and refocused on the road with a shrug.

            They crossed the Kansas state line a few minutes later, and they both cheered. Mark pulled off the interstate at the next exit, and they drove through a McDonald’s parking lot to get cheap burgers and fries.

            “All this new food is messin’ with my diet,” Jack mumbled as they chowed it down in the parking lot.

            “And what diet is that, Mr. Fitness?” Mark asked jauntily.

            “All protein, lean meat. I usually dry ‘em so that they last longer. It’s very nutritious, you should—”

            “Dude, if you’re talking about that _fucking_ turkey jerky, I swear on your sweet ass—”

            “So my ass is sweet, is it?” Jack couldn’t help laughing. “Have you ever had a taste of it?”

            “Jesus, man, what is it with the innuendos today? First I need to ‘be gentle’ with your balls, and now your ass—”

            “Shut up, I’m just bein’ stupid,” Jack cut him off, chuckling uneasily. “Don’t read too much into it, sicko.”

            Mark shook his head. “I’m just saying…seems like someone’s a little frustrated.”

            Jack choked on his food. “ _I am not_! If anything I have too _much_ sex.”

            “Yuck, no need to brag about it.”

            “Aw, poor baby.” Jack grinned at him lopsidedly. “When’s the last time a lady’s touched your special bits, anyway?”

            He might’ve been imagining it, but he could’ve sworn Mark got a little pinker in the face. “Well, uh…I guess you could say it’s been a pretty long time.”

            “Maybe I can help you find someone when we get back home,” Jack offered. He added cynically, “It seems like I’m too good at it, anyway. I may as well use my powers for good.”

            “Uh, thanks Dr. Love, but I think I’m good. I’m not really looking for a girl right now.”

            “Smart man. They’re nothin’ but trouble.” Jack couldn’t help feeling selfishly satisfied that he wasn’t going to get romantically involved with anyone in the near future, even though he knew he shouldn’t be. It wasn’t like Mark was saving himself for an unrealistic, disgustingly cheesy proclamation of his love for Jack. Things like that just didn’t happen in real life.

            “Now, now, don’t generalize,” Mark admonished with a wink. “Just don’t get yourself into a relationship you can’t handle.”

            “I told you, man, I’m steerin’ clear of relationships from now on,” Jack reminded him.

            “Yeah? From now until when?”

            “I dunno. As long as I feel like. Maybe till infinity.”

            Mark grunted, and it didn’t sound happy. Jack glanced sideways at him.

            “You’ve still got a problem with that?”

            “No comment.”

            “C’mon, Mark, I don’t wanna have this argument again.”

            “Okay then, don’t bring it up.”

            “It’s my business, anyway. Just let me decide how fast or slow I wanna take things with my love life, okay?”

            “ _Oh_ , believe you me, I’m giving you _plenty_ of free reign over how fast to take your love life,” Mark said dramatically, almost like he was pissed.

            Jack set down his burger. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

            “Nothing. Eat your food.” And despite Jack’s further prodding, Mark refused to say anything more on the subject.

* * *

            They slept in the cheapest motel room they could find. Albeit, it was pretty shady, what with the cigarette stains on the toilet seat and the mysterious stain on the floor in front of the TV, but at least it offered two beds instead of one. Somehow, Jack couldn’t help feeling that this wasn’t much of a perk.

            Jack was Googling road trip stops in Kansas before bed (because this motel, despite being unable to clean its carpets, could somehow afford public Wi-Fi) when he came across a particularly funny gem. He started to giggle just as Mark came out of the bathroom.

            “What’s so funny?” the latter asked, ruffling his hair with a towel to dry it.

            “Dude, we _need_ to go see this!” Jack leapt off the bed, and in his excitement he only then realized that Mark was dressed solely in a bath towel tied loosely around his hips with another draped across his neck, still gleaming and slightly damp in the cheap lamplight. Jack’s words crashed and died in his throat.

            “We need to see what?” Mark prompted, his voice completely casual as though he wasn’t completely fucking Jack’s entire life up the ass with his rippling pectorals alone.

            _Words, words, words. You were talking, Jack. You need to finish your sentence if you don’t wanna blow your cover completely._ Almost painfully, Jack forced himself to look back down at his phone. He spoke directly to it. “Guess what’s in Kansas.”

            “Uh, I dunno. A whole lotta corn?”

            “Well, yes, but also the _world’s largest ball of twine_.” He took his phone and shoved it into Mark’s face, straining very hard to keep his gaze trained there and not at the absolute eye buffet down below.

            Mark stared at the phone and began to shake his head with an amused grin. “Oh my good God, Jack.”

            “ _What_?! There’s no way in fuckin’ hell you can go on a self-respecting American road trip and _not_ see the world’s largest ball of twine!”

            “ _I_ suggest worthwhile places like Vegas and Chicago, and _you_ wanna go see the world’s largest ball of twine.”

            “You’re tellin’ me that you wanna go on a road trip and _not_ see the world’s largest ball of twine?!”

            “ _Fine_ , we’ll go, if it’s so important to you.”

            “Don’t pretend like you don’t wanna see it too!”

            “I’ll see it, but it won’t be the highlight of my trip, because unlike _you_ I have class.”

            With a self-satisfied smirk, Mark turned and walked towards the bathroom, toweling his hair again. Jack watched in fascination as his back rose and fell while his arms worked, and when he hung the towel on the door again his hair stuck up in all directions. Jack couldn’t help giggling. It was the most adorable thing he’d ever seen.

            “What’s funny?” Mark asked. “Hey, can you toss me some clothes out of my suitcase?”

            “You’re funny. You look silly.” Jack reached in and pulled out one of everything: boxers, a T-shirt, a pair of jeans. It felt weird to be manhandling Mark’s clothes; it was almost domestic. He blushed a little at the thought.

            “I do? Oh, it’s my hair, isn’t it?” Mark laughed a little and tried to pat it down, but it was a lost cause. “It likes to do whatever the hell it wants.”

            “Yeah, no kiddin’.” Jack tossed him his clothes, and Mark gave the jeans back, closing the bathroom door to change. Jack mourned the loss of the excellent view and laid back down on his bed, staring up at the ceiling with his arms pillowing his head.

            _What to do, what to do?_ It was getting harder and harder for him to keep his secret, especially with Mark parading around, spiky-haired and half-naked, like a fucking three-layer cake left unattended at a party.

            But soon the trip would end and it’d be easier to hold his tongue. The thought made his stomach vaguely ache. He hadn’t realized how much he wanted the trip to last forever until it occurred to him that it would eventually end—sooner than ever now that they weren’t going all the way to Niagara Falls. Jack gulped and stared at the ceiling. Once he got home, it’d be back to unemployment ads and disappointing sex; cheap energy drinks and late-night reruns of _Friends_ and _Two Broke Girls_. It all sounded so deadly boring and lonely. But what else could he do?

            Mark returned from the bathroom and frowned at Jack. “Is everything okay?”

            Jack nodded, wondering if he’d been crying or something. He sat up quickly. “Yeah, I’m fine, just tired.”

            “C’mon, man, I’ve known you forever. I know when you’re upset.” Mark sat down on his bed and leaned forward on his knees. “Tell me what’s up.”

            Jack sighed and swung his legs over his bed to mirror Mark. “I’m just dreadin’ goin’ home after all this,” he admitted. “It’s been so fun out here…I don’t wanna go home and be lonely again.”

            “I’m sorry, dude,” Mark said sympathetically. “You know you’ve always got me, right? I’ll always be there to keep you company.”

            Jack smiled. It was a bittersweet sentiment, because Mark _was_ always there and would give him whatever he needed, but Jack could never ask him for the one thing he wanted most.

            “I appreciate that, thanks,” he said genuinely. He reached over and flicked off the lamp. “I’m goin’ to bed, I’m exhausted. We need to get up early if we wanna see the ball of twine _and_ clear Kansas in one day.”

            “Jesus, you and your twine.” Jack heard Mark’s bed creak as he laid down, and suddenly he practically yearnedto be in the same bed. _Jesus Christ, “yearn”?! What the fuck kind of cheesy-ass poet do you think you are?!_ “And how the hell are you tired? You slept all day at the farmers’ place!”

            Jack laughed halfheartedly. “I dunno, man, it’s a mystery.” He rolled over in bed, unable to see anything in the pitch darkness, and was comforted by the fact that that meant Mark couldn’t see his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, another chapter churned out! It's a little bit short, but honestly, it's a segway into the climax. It needed to happen.
> 
> I'm on fall break now (PRAISE JESUS), so I've got a surplus of free time that I don't normally have. I'm hoping to use that time to get this fic finished and maybe even start on my next one (knock on wood). We'll see how that goes though, cause I've still got SOME things that need doing. Plus motivation is always fleeting.
> 
> Comments and constructive criticism are always appreciated! Just be polite. :)


	12. Jack's Babysitter

            The next morning they woke up at the ass-crack of dawn and piled into Mark’s car in order to get to Missouri by sundown. Jack was still tired as hell, but Mark seemed pretty awake and chipper, and he was even in the mood to sing along to the Disney CD.

            “ _Under the sea, under the sea! / Darling it’s better down where it’s wetter, take it from me!_ ”

            “That’s kinda dirty when you think about it wrong,” Jack mused. Mark stopped mid-verse and made a face.

            “Ugh, great, you ruined it for me,” he groaned, and Jack laughed evilly. “Hey, so tomorrow, I don’t suppose you wanna go inside the St. Louis arch, do you?”

            Jack thought about the ginormous height of that thing, and how it would feel to be standing at the top of it looking down at the city miles and miles and miles below. How did it even stay standing? Who was to say it wouldn’t fall over with him in it? The thought made him queasy.

            “Uh, no thank you. I’m not a fan of heights.”

            “That’s what I figured. We’ll just stop and take a picture of it. It’s expensive to go inside it anyway.”

            Again, Jack was reminded that he was freeloading this entire trip. He didn’t know how he was going to pay back Mark, though.

            “When I get home,” Jack formulated, thinking out loud, “I’m gonna get a big empty jar, and every day I’m gonna put loose dollars and change in it. And then when it’s full, I’m gonna give it to you to pay you back for this trip.”

            “Jack, I don’t want your loose change.”

            “Well _I_ don’t wanna keep bummin’ off of you.”

            “I don’t mind, though! It’s my treat!”

            “It feels wrong.”

            “Dude, I’m gonna bash your skull in if you mention money one more time.”

            “I thought you said you were gonna kick me in the balls.”

            “Did I? Well, in that case—” Mark made a fist and acted like he was going to punch Jack’s crotch, which made the latter cringe and cover himself with a small yelp. Mark laughed at him. “That was your warning.”

            Jack turned away so Mark wouldn’t see how he was blushing. “All right, I get the message.”

            They drove the next few hours in comfortable silence, occasionally breaking it to sing along to a song on the radio. When Jack’s stomach started to growl (they’d skipped breakfast at the roach motel because for all they knew it was made of horse meat and STDs), Mark pulled off at the next exit and into a gas station. He filled up the car and gave Jack a five-dollar bill, which was spent on four bags of turkey jerky and one can of Pringles that Mark asked for.

            “Oh, Jesus Christ. You’re not allowed to shop alone anymore,” Mark sighed when he saw the purchases. Jack smiled at him cheekily.

            “You gave me money, I bought food. I’m back on my diet now, see?” He made a show of ripping open a bag and stuffing three pieces of jerky in his mouth.

            “What’re you gonna do when we’re back home and you don’t have any reason to go to a gas station and buy those?”

            “Starve to death. Or I’ll just walk to the gas station and buy them. You don’t _have_ to have a car to go, y’know. It’s not an exclusive club.”

            “Jesus. You’re gonna have a heart attack, y’know.”

            “Quit your whinin’ and eat your stupid Pringles. You’re just jealous of the love that me and my delicious turkey jerky share.”

            “Okay, but if you start humping it, I’m gonna have to draw the line.”

            Jack practically pissed himself laughing, and off they went, back on the interstate. They were only an hour away from the world’s largest ball of twine, and Jack surprised himself with how excited he was to see it.

            “I don’t see what the big deal is,” Mark blurted about halfway there. “It’s just a pile of thread.”

            “It’s also the _world’s largest_ pile of thread. Have some respect.”

            “So what you’re saying is if I had the world’s largest ball of dog shit, people would be fascinated enough to come see it?”

            “Sure, why not? You could sell little souvenirs too.”

            Mark snorted. “Yeah, like what?”

            “I dunno. Little snow globes, but instead of raining snow they rain pieces of shit. And you could sell your own line of shit-scented perfume.”

            “Who in their right mind would buy _shit-scented_ perfume?!”

            “Are you telling me you _don’t_ buy shit-scented perfume? That’s just your natural scent?”

            “Eat a dick, Jack.” He chanced another swipe at him, and Jack smacked his hand away.

            “Only if you’re offerin’, big boy,” the latter said smugly, and Mark shook his head.

            “Jesus, I’m gonna need to get you a muzzle.”

            “That’s kinky.”

            “Or maybe a blow-up doll, so you can get all your frustration out and stop hitting me with all these innuendos.”

            “Hey, it’s a hobby.” _And a way of getting my feelings out in the open without actually saying anything._ Jack propped his feet up on the dash and stared out of the sun roof. Even though they were on the interstate, the air still smelled sweet and fresh, and the sky was almost as blue as a Popsicle. There’d be a lot of things Jack would miss when he returned home, but the gorgeous backdrop of the American countryside would be what he missed most of all.

* * *

            That, and he’d miss the tourist traps.

            The world’s largest ball of twine was set in Cawker City, Kansas, which was a remote little town with almost nothing in it but old-timey buildings and a water tower.

            “Let’s get out and walk,” Jack suggested. “This place is cute.”

            “Damn, you really love tiny little countryside cities,” Mark chuckled as he veered into a parking lot next to a store.

            “C’mon, you do too or you wouldn’t be here.”

            “I’m more of a city boy myself.”

            “No, you _loved_ the farm in Arizona. Admit it.”

            “I will not.”

            “You even _told_ Charlene that you did!”

            Mark laughed. “It’s called _flattery_.”

            “It’s called you’re-a-big-fat-lyin’-liar-who-lies.”

            “A lying liar who lies? Damn, that’s harsh.”

            They walked along the sidewalk in the general direction of where they thought the ball of twine would be. Mark led the way at first, taking Jack down random corners and jaywalking across empty streets. They passed families walking their dogs, women in floral skirts, men wearing baseball caps to keep the sun out of their eyes. Jack could actually hear birds tweeting somewhere, a sound not very often enjoyed in the smoggy hustle-and-bustle of L.A.

            “You can’t tell me you don’t find this beautiful,” Jack said contentedly. “Just look at these giant-ass houses! Imagine livin’ in one of ‘em!”

            Mark appraised the mansions they were passing, all of them Southern-style colonials with sweeping porches and ornate, overhanging rooftops and balconies. “I’ll admit it, they’re very pretty.”

            “Which one would you wanna live in if you could?”

            Mark pursed his lips thoughtfully, gazing at the surrounding buildings. “That one.” He pointed to a white house with a full tower and pointed roof, complete with a big, overgrown garden leading up to the front door.

            “Classy,” Jack said with a grin. “It’s pretty big, though. You’d get lonely.”

            “Don’t be ridiculous. I’d have you live with me.”

            Jack looked at him in surprise. “Really? What if I couldn’t pay rent?”

            “I’d keep you anyway. We’d water flowers and have golden retrievers and stuff. You could make up for it by cooking me Irish food.”

            “What, you mean potatoes and beer? Comin’ right up.”

            Mark laughed. “That’s the dream, my friend.” And for some reason, Jack felt very flattered.

* * *

            After a few more minutes of walking, Mark sighed and said, “Fine, I admit it. We’re lost.”

            “Dammit, are you serious? We’ve been walkin’ for almost an hour.”

            “I know, right? You’d think that a giant ball of twine’d be easier to see.”

            Jack looked around and spied a walk-in restaurant. “Here, let’s ask for directions,” he proposed.

            Mark made a face. “I don’t wanna ask a stranger,” he said uneasily.

            “Dude, c’mon. We just stayed in a stranger’s house _overnight_ not too long ago.”

            “That was a coincidence! C’mon, we’ll find it ourselves.”

            “Mark, are you afraid of hurtin’ your manly pride by asking for directions?” Jack crossed his arms smugly and grinned at his friend while he squirmed.

            “Well…I-I mean, I just—that’s not a fair question.”

            “Dude, _please_ just ask for help with me,” Jack laughed. “It’s better than just wanderin’ aimlessly for six hours lookin’ for this fuckin’ ball of twine.”

            “We wouldn’t’ve been lost _that_ long,” Mark grumbled, but he admitted defeat and walked inside with Jack.

            It was a little brunch place with few customers still inside. They were probably on the brink of closing.

            The woman behind the counter looked at them and smiled. She was exceptionally good-looking, with curly blonde hair tied into two loose pigtails and a wry, blood-red mouth.

            “How many? Two?” she asked, grabbing menus.

            “Oh, we’re not eatin’ here, sorry,” Jack said, and she shrugged and set the menus down. “We were actually lookin’ for directions to the world’s largest ball of twine. Do you know how to get there?”

            She giggled. “I’m guessin’ you two’re road-trippin’?” She had a very charming Southern accent, and Jack liked her immediately.

            “Uh, yeah, just passin’ through.”

            She turned around and talked to another woman. “Angela, do you mind if I show these two how to get to the twine real quick? I’ll be back before closin’.”

            Angela shrugged. “That’s fine, sweetie.”

            The hostess smiled at them and walked around the counter. “Follow me, boys. By the way, my name’s Hope.”

            “Thanks, Hope. I’m Jack, this is Mark.” Mark waved at her as she led them outside.

            “Nice to meet you both, welcome to Kansas. Where’re you boys from?”

            “We live in L.A.,” Mark replied. Hope nodded.

            “What about you, Jack? You can’t be from around here.”

            “No, I grew up in Ireland.”

            “Ireland, huh? You’re pretty far from home then, ain’tcha?”

            Jack laughed a little. “Yeah, you could say that.”

            Hope led the pair of them down the street and took a right. The largest ball of twine was two feet down the road.

            “Are you kidding me?!” Mark cried, laughing. “It was _right there_?!”

            “Yup! You two almost made it, I just wanted to make sure you got here okay,” Hope answered. She winked at Jack and added, “Didn’t want you boys gettin’ lost or anythin’.”

            Jack smiled. “Thanks, I appreciate it. Should you be gettin’ back to work?”

            “Nah, Angela don’t care when I get back,” she said breezily. “I’ll hang out with you two here till you’re done lookin’ at this thing.”

            The three of them approached the ball, which was sitting unattended under an open roof. A few other people were milling about it, including a woman with three kids and a couple holding hands.

            “So this is it, huh?” Jack asked, staring at it with his hands in his pockets. “Can I touch it?”

            Hope snorted. “If you really want to.”

            Jack reached out and rubbed it. It felt rough.

            “Damn, not much to it is there?” Mark chuckled. “This is the highlight of your trip, Jack?”  
            “Quit makin’ fun of me, I just wanted to see it.”

            “It’s a cool thing we’ve got here,” Hope chimed in, patting Jack’s shoulder. He glanced at her. “You should’ve come durin’ the Twine-a-thon, that’s pretty fun.”

            “What’s a Twine-a-thon?” Mark asked. Hope looked at him briefly but directed her answer to Jack.

            “It’s when we get together and add more twine to the ball. There’s hot dogs and horseshoes and bingo and a parade and stuff. It’s pretty lively.”

            “All that over a ball of twine?” Mark marveled, staring at the enormous tourist trap.

            Hope shrugged. “There’s not a whole lot to get excited about in Cawker City,” she admitted.

            “I think it’s pretty cool. It’s the world’s biggest!” Jack put his hands in his pockets and smiled at the twine. “I don’t suppose there’s a souvenir shop?”

            “I’m afraid not,” Hope sighed good-naturedly.

            “Dammit.” He looked back at Mark. “All right, let’s go. We need to get to Missouri.”

            Mark nodded. “Well, I’m glad I wasted a whole afternoon so I could see that,” he said matter-of-factly. Jack tapped him on the back of the head.

            “You two seem like pretty good friends,” Hope observed as she led them back to the restaurant. She eyed them almost jealously.

            “Yup, I’ve known Mark since comin’ to America,” Jack replied.

            “So that’s all you are? Just friends?”

            “Well, we’re _best_ friends,” Mark clarified, and he patted Jack’s back to prove his point. “We’ve been friends since we were teenagers.”

            “But you’re not a couple,” Hope tried again.

            Mark shrugged it off. “No, not really,” he mumbled, looking the other way. Hope smiled widely.

            They made it back to the restaurant, where Hope insisted on giving Mark and Jack some pastries for the road. She wouldn’t take Mark’s money when he offered it to her.

            “It’s called Southern hospitality,” she said cheerfully. Mark acquiesced and took the bag from her, making his way over to the exit.

            Jack started to follow him, but Hope grabbed his shoulder. “Wait, one more thing,” she said in a hushed voice, almost like it was a secret. Mark hesitated at the door, watching them closely.

            Hope reached behind the counter and grabbed some receipt paper, scribbling something on it. “Here’s my number,” she whispered, folding it in half. Jack’s eyes widened considerably as she stretched around him and slipped the paper into his back pocket, her fingers grazing over his ass. “If you come back through Kansas, feel free to call me for a night. I’ve always got time.”

            Jack stood there, blushing and at a loss for words. Before he could come up with an answer, however, Mark stepped in.

            “We’re actually not coming back this way,” he asserted out of the blue, grabbing Jack’s forearm and tugging authoritatively. “Sorry to disappoint you. C’mon, Jack.”

            “Hey, wait a minute,” Hope retaliated, her expression going sour. “Who are you, his babysitter? He can make his _own_ decisions.” She reached forward to take Jack’s hand, but Mark stepped in between them.

            “Look, you can throw around your Southern belle charm and shake your boobs in his face all you want, but that doesn’t mean my friend is stupid enough to dial you up for a booty call,” Mark spat, and Jack gaped at him in shock. “So stop whoring around and actually do your damn job.”

            Hope stared at him, looking scandalized, and for a moment Jack thought she might slap him. Instead, she marched forward and yanked the bag of pastries out of Mark’s hand. “Get the hell out of here,” she said venomously.

            “Believe me, we will.” Mark practically dragged Jack out the door, who was still completely frozen in shock. Once they got outside, Mark began marching full speed back to the car.

            “Hey, wait a minute!” Jack cried, jogging to catch up. “What the hell was that?! I wasn’t actually gonna call her.”

            “Oh, _sure_ you weren’t.” Mark rolled his eyes. “C’mon, Jack, be real. You were all over her. I know you.”

            “Um, _excuse_ me, I was _not_.” Sure, she’d been sexy, but Jack hadn’t even suspected she had a thing for him until she was groping his behind. “And since when is it your job to turn away women for me? She’s right, you’re not my babysitter.”

            “Jack, _just yesterday_ you said you were gonna steer clear of relationships, but as soon as some Southern Lolita starts fawning on you—”

            “I was _not_ going to call her!”

            Mark sighed and slowed his pace. “Whatever. You sure as hell aren’t going to _now_.”

            “I never _would_ have. Jesus, quit embarrassin’ me, please. You’re takin’ a creepy interest in what I do with my life, and I don’t like it.”

            Mark shook his head and tugged on his hair. “Fine, you’re right. I’m sorry. C’mon, let’s just get in the car and go. We’ve wasted enough time here already.”

            Jack let it go, mostly because he had no idea what the problem was in the first place. A pretty girl had flirted with him. So what? She lived in Kansas, a state they’d only be returning to in order to drive home. There was no way in hell Jack would’ve taken her up on her offer. Mark’s reaction was completely unprecedented.

            _He’s just looking out for you_ , Jack thought. That was probably true. Every time he found a new girlfriend to obsess over, Mark had been there to tell him that he was getting too worked up, that he was going to get his heart broken, blah blah blah. He’d been right every time, too. He wasn’t mad anymore by the time they found the car, although Mark still seemed kind of worked up.

            “So, now we’ve seen the world’s largest ball of twine,” Jack said positively once they got back on the road. “We can cross that off our bucket list.”

            Despite Mark’s intense glare at the road, he cracked a smile. “What else is on your list? ‘See the world’s largest ball of stamps’? ‘The world’s largest ball of rubber bands’? ‘See Shamu jump a flaming hoop’?”

            “I’m pretty sure that last one is animal cruelty.”

            “The entirety of _Sea World_ is animal cruelty, Jack.” Mark changed the subject. “We’re probably gonna have to drive all night again to get to Missouri in time.”

            Jack chuckled. “Okay, didn’t realize we were on a tight schedule.”

            “We are. It’s called ‘get to Ohio and visit my mom before all the money runs out.’”

            Jack’s smile fell away. “Yeah, sounds about right,” he mumbled, mostly because he wasn’t allowed to offer to pay anymore without risking getting neutered. “I’m gonna go ahead and sleep now so I can drive durin’ the night.”

            “All right, that’s fine. But if you run out of gas at three in the morning, I’m _going_ to abandon you in the middle of Kansas.”

            “Fair enough.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to make this chapter longer, but I decided to cut it off here. I'm hoping to have this fic done by chapter 15. I think it's doable, but I've been wrong before. We'll see how that goes. :)
> 
> Comments and constructive criticism are always appreciated! Just please be polite.


	13. Strip Poker: The Car Version

            Jack was woken up at about midnight by Mark, who admitted to having almost fallen asleep at the wheel. Jack drove in silence down the surprisingly populated highway for the next few hours, feeling awake yet bored. He tried not to sneak glances at Mark—unshaven, bedheaded, skewed-glasses, lightly snoring Mark—but it was a battle he was destined to lose.

            At about four or five in the morning, Jack crossed into Missouri. He let out a loud cheer before he realized Mark was asleep. His companion stirred in his chair and squinted at him blearily.

            “The hell…? What happened?”

            Jack blushed guiltily. “We’re in Missouri. Sorry I woke you up.”

            Mark chuckled, his voice rough and lazy with sleep. It was absolutely adorable. Jack bit his lower lip hard to keep himself from…what? Throwing caution to the wind and blurting everything he felt right then to his half-asleep friend? _That_ wouldn’t go over well.

            Mark fell back asleep in a few moments, and Jack drove well into the daylight hours. He pulled into a Waffle House and roused Mark from sleep.

            “Dude, wake up. I’m fuckin’ starvin’.”

            Mark groaned and stretched, his shirt riding up on his torso. “I’m up, I’m up.” He still needed to clear his throat. Jack jumped out of the car before he did something he’d regret.

            The two of them brushed their teeth in the men’s room, and Mark tried to do something with his hair but lost the battle. They discussed their plan of attack over waffles and bacon, which was to see the St. Louis arch _from the ground_ (this point was very emphasized by Jack), maybe buy a souvenir or two, and then drive straight to Illinois and covering as much ground as possible before they collapsed from exhaustion.

            Mark took over the driving shift, and even though Jack reclined with his eyes closed, he couldn’t seem to get tired. He turned from side to side trying to get comfortable, but it was futile. The sun was burning the inside of his eyelids too much to sleep.

            “How’s the sleeping going?”

            “Not well.” Jack groaned and sat up in his chair. “I’m not tired, I’m just bored.”

            “Wanna play a game?” Mark suggested, smiling cheekily.

            “Nah, we’ve played ‘em all already.”

            “Not this one.” Mark looked around at the other cars surrounding them on the highway. “Every time you see a car with one of its mirrors missing, you hit the ceiling.”

            “Hit the ceiling? Why?” Jack looked around him, but all of the cars seemed to have both mirrors intact.

            “Just do it. I’ll explain later.” Mark looked pretty pleased with himself, and Jack was somewhat suspicious.

            They drove along for a little while in semi-silence, and after a while Jack forgot to keep a lookout for cars. But as they veered onto another exit, Mark suddenly punched the ceiling and laughed.

            “I did it first! Now you have to take off an article of clothing.”

            “ _Excuse_ me?!” Jack cried, flabbergasted. Mark grinned at him triumphantly.

            “Look, there’s a car with a missing mirror, see?” He pointed at an old Nissan in front of them with not only a missing mirror, but a completely dented left side. “I hit the ceiling first, so you lost. Now you have to take an article of clothing off.”

            Jack stared at him. “What the _hell_ kinda game is this?”

            “A non-kid-friendly one. Now strip.”

            Jack rolled his eyes, but his stomach was tying itself into butterfly-filled knots. “Fine. I’ll take off my shoes.” He slipped off his sneakers and propped up his sock-covered feet on the dash. “Happy now?”

            “Ugh, you’re lame. We’ll keep playing. I’ll get you naked eventually.”

            Jack’s face turned apple-red, and he spluttered something along the lines of, “Didn’t know you were so interested.”

            Mark glanced at him sideways, and a blush seemed to creep into _his_ cheeks as well. “Jeez, dude, not like that,” he said embarrassedly. “It’s just a game.”

            “Uh huh, _sure_. Don’t be so sure you’ll win. I’m on the lookout now.” Jack wasn’t exactly sure that his heart could take another Shirtless Mark Sighting, but that wasn’t going to stop him from trying.

            They continued driving, this time much more focused and dedicated to win. Jack spied the next vehicle about an hour later: an ancient-looking minivan with a grizzled old soccer mom behind the wheel. He punched the ceiling loudly and shouted, “TAKE IT OFF!”

            Mark looked at the van and muttered, “God dammit. Can’t take off my shoes either, don’t want ‘em fucking up the pedals….”

            “Aww, poor baby,” Jack simpered. Mark gave him a faux-dirty look.

            “Whatever, since _I’m_ a good sport, I’ll go shirtless. Handle the wheel for a second.” Mark then proceeded to take both hands off of the wheel and start pulling his T-shirt over his head.

            “ _What_?!” Jack lunged forward and grabbed the wheel as the car started to veer towards the shoulder of the road. “You can’t just _announce_ somethin’ like that and expect me to react immediately!”

            “You _better_ react immediately if you don’t wanna crash! There aren’t any cops, are there?” Mark’s shirt was covering his face, and Jack’s adrenaline was practically through the roof.

            “No, thank God. But people are starin’.” The soccer mom was giving them a look of extreme disapproval. “They probably think I’m givin’ you road head or somethin’.”

            “Well _that’s_ specific,” Mark declared, and when he finally got his shirt off his face was red. His hair was also a complete mess after enduring the abuse of the collar scraping against it, and Jack handed over the wheel and turned to look out the window with pleasure so as not to reveal how flustered he was. “I wonder what a Freudian analysis of all your comments might reveal about your inner feelings, _Sean_.”

            “Ew, don’t call me Sean,” Jack interjected, choosing to ignore the other comment. A therapist could probably have a field day with his deepest unconscious desires (not to mention his libido), but he was fine being (or rather, pretending to be) oblivious to his more animalistic urges.

            They passed another hour, and after a while they got tired of looking at cars. Jack played the Disney CD, and they entertained themselves by dueting _A Whole New World_ in terrible falsetto voices and laughing at each other.

            “Mark, don’t you actually have a halfway decent singin’ voice?” Jack teased at one point.

            “Well yeah, of course I do! Just not in soprano!”

            “A goodsinger can adapt to—”

            “Wait, shut up!” Mark hit the roof with the heel of his hand so hard the car rattled. “ _TAKE IT OFF_!”

            “ _What_?! No fuckin’ way!” Jack leaned forward and squinted out of windshield and caught sight of a silver truck on the other side of the highway missing a mirror just as it zoomed past. “C’mon, that is _bullshit_!”

            “I don’t wanna hear any of your complaining. Strip, and no more of this ‘just my shoes’ shit.”

            Jack pretended to pout. “How about my socks?”

            “That _definitely_ doesn’t count. I don’t wanna smell your nasty feet.”

            “Then what _should_ I take off?”

            “Whatever you’re brave enough to display, buddy boy.”

            On a whim, Jack decided to accept the challenge. He unbuckled his seatbelt and began undoing his fly. Mark glanced at him sideways, his eyes widening in alarm.

            “Wait, are you really gonna—?”

            Jack hopped in his chair as he struggled to take off his skinny jeans. “Ugh, these are tight— _there_! I did it!”

            There were a few seconds when Mark stared in awe at Jack’s exposed, practically paper-white legs and his blue briefs, then seemed to realize what he was doing and whipped his eyes back at the road.

            “Well _Jesus_ …,” he half-chuckled. “All you had to do was take off your shirt or something.”

            “You said to take off whatever I was brave enough to show!”

            “I guess I just didn’t think you’d actually do it.”

            Jack was surprised he did, too. Now his legs were cold, not to mention his package was (mostly) wide-open for everybody to see. He covered it self-consciously with his hands.

            Mark noticed. “Dude, if you wanna put them back on—”

            “No, it’s fine. I’m brave.” _And incredibly stupid_. Now Mark was shirtless and his pants were gone. If they got pulled over they’d have one hell of a story to tell.

            Jack hadn’t realized just how much time had passed until they passed a sign advertising St. Louis at the next exit, and he blinked in shock. “Holy shit, we’re here.”

            “Time flies when you’re stripping with your bros,” Mark said dryly, and Jack tossed his head back and laughed.

            “We should probably get dressed now,” he suggested, reaching for his pants at his feet.

            “Aw, c’mon, we can keep laying,” Mark teased.

            “Why? Were you hoping I’d take off my briefs next?”

            “I’d get to see that lovely Irish potta gold you’ve been keepin’ under there, laddie—all right, all right, _all right_ , _I’ll stop_!” Mark laughed and tried to dodge Jack’s hand as the latter kept smacking at his arm. “Dude, stop! _I’m driving_!”

            Jack chortled at him. “Don’t you cross me again, I’ll fuck you up,” he joked, and Mark rolled his eyes.

            “Uh huh, _sure_ you will. What do you weigh, like, ten pounds?”

            “Hardy har har.” Jack grunted as he struggled to wiggle back into his jeans sitting down. “You know what they say: it’s not the size of the dog in the fight, it’s the size of—”

            “Yeah, yeah, the fight in the dog. Didn’t we already do a manliness challenge? Didn’t I _win_?!”

            “Only ‘cause I was asleep!”

            “Yeah, on my _back_!”

            “It’s still not a fair competition. I’ll have the last laugh, wait’ll ya see.”

            “Yeah, sure. We’ll see who’s laughing when I’ve got you pinned and crying ‘uncle’ in thirty seconds.”

            “That’s what _she_ said.”

            “You’re disgusting, Jack.” But he was laughing.

* * *

            So began a sequence of events that Jack would regret more than anything else in the world.

            They had to park a few blocks away from the arch because there didn’t seem to be any streets that circled around it. Jack was perfectly happy walking there, but Mark seemed disgruntled.

            “Can’t believe I have to put my shirt on for this…,” he groused as he tugged it on in the parking lot. Jack wanted to point out that it wasn’t exactly _required_ , but he’d already gone over his gay limit that day.

            “You’ll live,” he said instead. “C’mon, let’s hurry. The faster we get to Chicago the better.”

            “Well I’m glad you’re excited to see this incredibly historic monument,” Mark said sarcastically. “I mean, I know it’s no world’s largest ball of twine, but—”

            “Oh shut up, I _am_ excited you dick,” Jack sighed good-naturedly. “Now c’mon, you’re takin’ forever.”

            They walked down the blocks past hotels and restaurants and tourist-trap stores. The arch loomed in the horizon, but Jack didn’t realize just how big it was until they reached it and he was standing at its feet.

            “Good God, it’s fuckin’ _enormous_ ,” he said in awe, craning his neck to see the top tens of millions of feet above his head.

            Mark snorted. “That’s what she—”

            “Hey, shut up, that’s my thing.” Jack walked around the circumference of it, and Mark followed him with an amused smile as he took in its wonder. “Jesus, that must’ve taken forever to build. It must be terrifyin’ up top.”

            “You wanna find out?” Mark offered. Jack spluttered into surprised laughter.

            “ _Ha_ , you’re funny! No, I’d rather get cavities filled.”

            “Jeez, don’t need to be so dramatic.” Mark squinted up at it. “I think it’d be kinda fun to be that high up. You’d get to see the whole city.”

            “So? It’s practically _plane height_.”

            “Oh c’mon, it is _not_.” Mark shrugged one shoulder. “It’s fine, I just thought it’d be cool.”

            Jack studied him hard and felt guilty. Mark continued to stare up at the top, and it was obvious he was interested in seeing it from the inside. His gut twisted at the thought of being up even half that height, but still….

            _You’ve already spent all of his money,_ and _you dragged him to see that stupid ball of twine. Are you really so selfish that you won’t even let him do_ this _?!_

“Hey, Mark, uh…,” Jack said weakly.

            Mark turned to face him, his eyes bright and curious. “Yes?” he asked, his voice as richly deep as ever. _Jesus_ , Jack thought, _he’s impossible to say no to. Fuck him for that._

“Well, uh…listen, if you really wanna see the arch…it’s fine with me. I’ll do it.” Jack’s hands were in his pockets and his shoulders were hunched up to his ears, but he tried to sound as convincing as he could.

            Mark raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure, dude? It’s fine if we don’t, it won’t hurt my feelings.”

            Jack shrugged. “I dunno, I mean, we’ve really only been doin’ stuff _I_ wanna do. I want you to have a turn, y’know?”

            Mark pursed his lips and thought about it. “I mean…I think it’d be pretty fun,” he admitted. “But only if you’re one hundred percent cool with it.”

            Jack nodded, even though just looking up at its immense height made him feel dizzy. “Sounds good to me, man. Let’s just head in before the lines get too long.” _And before I lose my nerve, ‘cause I’m gonna fuckin’ throw up._

* * *

            The entrance, ironically, was underground and had to be accessed through a concrete tunnel. Jack was expecting some sort of subway (or maybe a dungeon), but it was actually a very nice, clean underground area complete with a gift shop.

            Mark paid their entrance fees (despite Jack’s getting out his wallet, he guessed because they both knew he didn’t have the money anyway), which led to a weird staircase with multiple doors and landings. It was significantly more industrial in this sector of the underground passage.

            “Jesus, this looks nightmarish,” Jack muttered, and Mark laughed.

            “I’ve read about it. There’s round tram cars in here that’ll take us to the top,” he explained as they slowly climbed the stairs with the rest of the line.

            “Oh, perfect.” The height was terrifying on its own, but now they had to access it with rusty tram cars? This day was getting better and better.

            “Hey, it’s gonna be okay dude,” Mark offered kindly. Jack looked at him and couldn’t help feeling comforted. Mark was always good at looking sincere. “I’ve had family go up in this before, they say it’s a breeze.”

            “If you say so,” Jack chuckled, but he was grateful.

            They entered their designated tram, which was painfully small and circular and made Jack feel like he was sitting inside of the wheel of a car. Mark, however, seemed awfully comfortable, and he stretched out in his chair almost like a taunt. _Look at me, Jack! I’m a perfectly functioning human being!_

“You okay, man?” he asked Jack as he lowered stiffly into a chair.

            “Yeah, I’m fine. Why?”

            “Well you look a little green…and you’re not letting your back touch the seat.”

            He was right on both accounts. Jack gulped. “Who knows who’s sat here before me?”

            Mark leaned forward, and the car swayed a little. Jack cried out and grabbed hold of something, and Mark froze, clearly trying not to laugh.

            “Dude, I _promise_ nothing bad’s gonna happen.” Mark pursed his lips. “If you’re too nervous, we can ask them to let us off—”

            “C’mon, don’t be ridiculous. We already paid.” Jack took a deep, shuddering breath and leaned back in the chair, trying to stay as still as possible. “Well, _you_ paid anyway.”

            “I’m not having this argument with you again,” Mark said warningly, and Jack (grudgingly) dropped it.

            The tram began to move, and there were fewer more petrifying experiences in Jack’s life than that. He gripped the material of the seat and held on for dear life while Mark stared at him with a mixture of amusement and concern.

            “Do you need me to hold your hand?” he teased at one point, and Jack almost said yes.

            “Don’t make fun of me,” he half-chuckled. “Are we almost to the top yet? This is takin’ fuckin’ forever.”

            “I dunno. I think it takes a little while to get up there.”

            “Fuckin’ _fan_ tastic,” Jack sighed. He gulped and looked at the floor. “Wanna play a game or somethin’? To distract me?”

            “Uh, sure, if you want. What game?”

            “Uh….” Jack was at a loss. He couldn’t think of a single damn thing besides how terrified he was of going any higher.

            “How about more would-you-rather?” Mark suggested. “That’s easy.”

            Jack nodded, and he forced himself to look up. Looking at the floor was just making him wonder how many feet lay between it and the cold hard ground. “All right, sounds good. You start.”

            The tram lurched forward all of a sudden, and Jack resisted the urge to vomit. Mark rushed into a question to distract him.

            “Would you rather live in a flying car or a submarine?”

            Jack gave him a weird look, and Mark turned a slight shade of red. “What kind of a question is that? Submarine. I hate heights. I thought we covered this.”

            Mark laughed a little. “I panicked, okay? And I’d take the flying car. I hate water.”

            “Well aren’t we a pair.”

            The car swayed again, and Jack gripped the seat tighter and gritted his teeth. Mark crossed the tram and sat by his side. “Here, it’s better this way,” he said encouragingly.

            Jack knew he was just trying to help, but he couldn’t help blurting, “How? Now the weight’s all shifted to one side.”

            “Oh yeah,” Mark muttered, but he recovered quickly. “It also means that if anything goes wrong, I’ll be able to catch you and cushion our fall.”

            “Uh…thanks?” Was that supposed to make him feel _better_? Jack could practically feel all the cogs and mechanisms in the tram making it rise up, and it was making him so stressed he might vomit. “Would you mind goin’ again? I can’t think right now.”

            “Yeah, no problem. Would you rather meet your favorite celebrity and become their best friend, or meet them and sleep with them for a night?”

            Jack laughed a little. “Considerin’ my favorite celebrity’s Shia LaBeouf, I’m gonna go with the first option.”

            Mark burst into a fit of giggles, and Jack smiled at him in confusion. “What’s so funny?”

            “Nothing, I just—” He was laughing too hard to continue, and he had to take a deep breath. “I’m just imagining him screaming ‘DO IT!’ in bed.”

            Jack suddenly couldn’t get that image out of his head, and whether it was due to nerves or if it was just really that funny, he doubled over in laughter. “Oh my God, you _sick fuck_!”

            “Hey, it’s funny, okay?! I can’t help where my mind takes me.”

            “Ain’t _that_ the fuckin’ truth?!”

            Suddenly, the tram stopped, and the doors opened into a long, narrow room with tiny windows. Jack stared out in shock.

            “Holy shit, we’re here?” He whirled to look at Mark, who was smirking smugly.

            “I knew I’d take your mind off of it somehow,” he said in triumph, standing up and stepping onto the landing. “You coming or what? There’s more trams to get through.”

            Jack nodded, stepping out into the open. As grateful as he was to get off of the Death Elevator, this didn’t seem to be much better. Just glimpsing accidentally out the windows gave him a panorama of St. Louis that he didn’t ask for.

            Mark, however, walked jauntily forward and found a window that wasn’t completely occupied. He laid down on the angled wall and peered out of it, cupping his eyes with his hands like binoculars.

            “Damn, this view is incredible!” he announced in awe. “Hey Jack, can you hand me my phone so I can get a picture?”

            “I guess. Where is it?” Jack was shifting uneasily from foot to foot, unable to even imagine staring out of the window like that. The entire arch suddenly seemed so fucking _flimsy_. How could it even hold this many people?! It was just an aluminum arch, after all. One good wind could knock it over. Jack was suddenly on the verge of throwing up again.

            “In my back pocket. Just pull it out real quick. I don’t wanna get up and lose my spot.”

            It took Jack a moment to register Mark’s request. “Wait, you want me to reach into your ass-pocket?”

            “Dude, just say ‘no homo’ and hand it to me real quick please.”

            Jack reddened considerably. He didn’t say “no homo” because he didn’t feel like lying, but he obediently slipped his hand into Mark’s back pocket (keeping it as far from his ass as possible) and fished out his iPhone. He handed it over, and Mark took it wordlessly, snapping some pictures from his vantage point.

            “This is so cool,” he gushed, straightening up. He smiled at Jack. “Wanna look?”

            Jack stared at him wide-eyed. “Uh, how about no,” he chuckled nervously.

            “Aw, c’mon dude, we’re all the way up here. I’ll look with you, c’mon.” He laid back down and beckoned Jack forward.

            Besides faking a seizure, Jack didn’t see a way out of it. Steeling himself, he laid slowly and woodenly across the wall leading up to the teeny tiny little prison-style window overlooking St. Louis.

            Below him were tiny little people the size of toothpicks, and surrounding him were once-enormous skyscrapers that he could now see the roofs of. Off in the horizon, he could actually _see_ the curve of planet Earth, a privilege that didn’t seem like it should be open to ordinary humans. It was almost as stunning as the view from the Grand Canyon (but only almost).

            “Shit, it’s like bein’ God or somethin’,” Jack murmured, and Mark giggled.

            “Yeah, I guess you could put it that way.”

            “Are we really that tiny?”

            “Oh no, you’re not gonna have another existential crisis like you did in Arizona, are you?”

            Jack laughed. “I dunno, maybe I’m so afraid of heights because they make me question my mortality.”

            “Wouldn’t _that_ be the icing on the cake?” Mark squeezed his shoulder affectionately, and Jack couldn’t help smiling at him. He pillowed his head in the crook of his elbow, feeling suddenly comfortable in relieved, despite being fuck-all miles in the air. Mark grinned at him covertly, almost as though they were sharing something secret, and the way his eyes sparkled behind his glasses was absolutely breathtaking. This was the _real_ view, fuck the rest of St. Louis. And Jack didn’t even have to pay ten dollars to see it.

            “Um, excuse me,” a small voice said, and Mark and Jack rolled onto their shoulders a bit to see a little boy standing behind them. “I’m sorry to bother you, but can I have a turn?”

            Jack smiled. “Sure, bud, have at it.” _You’ll probably have more fun lookin’ at it than I will, anyway._

He and Mark walked back onto the main floor, and Mark smiled at him contentedly.

            “Thanks for coming up here with me,” he said genuinely. “I know you didn’t really want to, it was nice of you.”

            Jack smiled back at him: his friend, his own personal million-dollar view, with his messy hair and stupid jokes and fearlessness and generosity.

            “No problem, dude. I figured it was only fair.”

* * *

            The ride back down was slightly less painful than the ride up, mostly because Jack had the image of Shia screaming the “Do It” speech during sex to keep him company. Once they were back on the ground floor, they watched the short documentary on the making of the arch that was included with their ticket, which Jack found surprisingly interesting. They wandered into the gift shop afterwards, which was stuffed to the teeth with cheesy mugs and T-shirts and—God forbid—snow globes.

            “ _This_ is what the ball of twine should’ve had,” Jack joked, and Mark rolled his eyes.

            “Ugh, you and your fucking twine,” he sighed. “Do you want a souvenir? I’ll get you one.”

            “You don’t have to do that, don’t be silly.”

            “What, you don’t want anything to commemorate the day you actually _survived_ going up in the St. Louis arch?”

            “Dude, I _don’t_ want you spending any more money on me.”

            “So help me God, Jack, if you make one more comment about money I’m leaving you to hitchhike back to L.A.”

            “Well that’s not very nice.”

            “Just pick something out, please.” Mark was trying not to laugh. “I’m forcing you to.”

            “Fine, but you pick out somethin’ too, and I’ll buy it. I’ve got a little money on my card.”

            “Jack—”

            “Do it or I’ll bite you.”

            “Well that’s fucking kinky.”

            “Shut up and buy something. We’ll make it a contest.” Jack scanned the shop for his prize. “Whoever gets the cheesiest souvenir wins.”

            “Wins what?”

            “I dunno, the cheesiest souvenir? We each have a minute. Go!” He took off at a speed walk, and Mark had no choice but to play along.

            Jack ended up in what he guessed was the cutlery section, which was mostly made up of shot glasses and fancy spoons. They were good enough, but he knew he found a winner when he went over to the themed towels and actually found soap with the arch carved into it. He marched back up to the counter with his prize hidden behind his back.

            Mark met him a few moments later, his choice also concealed. “So how do we reveal it?” he asked. He waggled his eyebrows confidently. “I think I’ve got a winner.”

            Jack grinned mischievously. “Yeah, I beg to differ. On three, okay? One, two, three!”

            They both exposed their prizes, and as soon as Jack saw Mark’s he practically pissed his pants. “ _Holy hell_! _Where did you find that_?!”

            Mark laughed adorably at his souvenir. “Back next to the T-shirts and stuff. Do I win?”

            “Yeah, you fuckin’ killed it, I don’t even care. I’ll buy both for that, just for you. Jesus Christ. That just made my fuckin’ day.” He slid his purchases over to the somewhat-confused cashier, who rang them up and handed them back to Jack in a paper bag.

            They left the St. Louis arch, and Jack was still dying of laughter as they made it into the sunshine. Mark jostled him playfully.

            “C’mon dude, it’s not that funny.”

            “You’re kiddin’ me, right?!” Jack fished into the bag and pulled them out, waving them in Mark’s face. “ _Lacy St. Louis arch-themed women’s underwear_?! Where the fuck do they come up with this shit?!”

            “I don’t know, I’m not a tacky souvenir designer!” Mark sniggered, snatching them back. They were grey with pink lace on the edges, and across the butt was a picture of the arch with St. Louis written underneath. “There are some weird people in this world, Jack.”

            “Well duh! But I can understand gettin’ Vegas or NYC on underwear, but the _arch_?! That’s a whole new kind of slutty.”

            “Careful, dude, there’s kids around.”

            “I don’t care. I _hope_ they hear me. Maybe in ten years when they’re fifteen they won’t decide that they need this kinda underwear in their sex lives.”

            “Oh good Lord. C’mon, let’s get back to the car before some soccer mom punches you in the pot of gold.” Mark led the way back to the parking lot, both of them still laughing all the while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter was a lot of stupid filler, but it's actually one of my favorites. Idk why. Maybe because of the stripping; maybe because of the underwear. It's just an all-around feel good moment. I'm happy I wrote it in, because I was this close to just having them skip the arch. :P
> 
> I'm gonna go ahead and instigate the climax in the next chapter, and hopefully we'll have some falling action in chapter 15. We might run over into 16 chapters depending how that goes, but I promise it won't be any longer than that. I wasn't really planning for this fic to be so long in the first place, so it's high time I started winding down. XD
> 
> Comments and constructive criticism are always appreciated! Just please be polite. :)


	14. You're Damn Right We Are

            “So, Chicago’s next?” Jack asked, sitting cross-legged on his bed while Mark pored over his laptop to finish a new project. The latter nodded.

            “Yep. It should be pretty cool. I don’t know if it’ll be that much different from L.A., but who knows?”

            Jack nodded. They’d spent the night in a Super 8 an hour or two outside of St. Louis; they were now in the heart of Illinois, and so far it was no more thrilling than any of the other flyover states had been.

            Mark yawned loudly, and Jack looked at him. “Why’re you so tired? Did you sleep well?”

            “I slept fine, I just got a phone call really early this morning and couldn’t fall back asleep after that,” Mark answered, scrubbing his face with his hands.

            “Really? Who from?”

            “Some stupid telemarketer. What kind of survey questionnaire person calls at six in the morning?”

            Jack chuckled. “Yeah, that’s kinda fucked up.” He changed the subject. “So, you tryin’ out a new bearded look?” Both of them had showered last night (thank God), and Jack had taken the opportunity to trim his facial hair last night, but Mark seemed to be letting his grow past scruff and into beard territory.

            “What? Oh, right. Nah, not on purpose.” Mark scratched at his thick, coarse stubble. “I’m mostly just too lazy to shave it off to be perfectly honest.”

            Jack laughed. “Look at you, being an unhygienic _manly_ man.”

            “Damned straight. Next thing you know I’ll stop wearing deodorant, stop brushing my teeth, stop washing my hair….”

            “Ugh, that’s disgustin’. _I_ sure as hell wouldn’t wanna be in your car.”

            They bantered a little bit more but eventually got up, ate a little breakfast, and got back in the car. As they got onto the highway, Jack interjected, “We’re not playin’ that car game again, are we?”

            Mark slowly began to smirk. “I dunno, _are_ we?” he asked lecherously. “I guess you’ll just have to keep hitting the ceiling to find out.”

            “Oh, Jesus Christ,” Jack moaned, covering his face with his hands in what he hoped looked like annoyance but was really embarrassment. He kept a sharp eye out for missing mirrors, but for the first solid hour and a half they didn’t see a single one, and eventually he and Mark both got bored.

            “Okay,” Mark announced out of the blue at one point, rousing Jack from his daydreams. “Let’s play four truths and a lie.”

            Jack scoffed. “C’mon, didn’t you play this enough in primary school?”

            “Uh, excuse me, we _civilized_ people call it _elementary_ school.”

            “Kiss my ass, Mark.”

            “With pleasure. _Now_ , I’m assuming I don’t have to explain the rules?”

            “No, I know them already, how could I forget?” Jack replied, resigning himself to his fate. The game was simple: tell five facts about yourself, four of which are true and one which is a lie. The other person has to guess which the lie is.

            “Good. Then you go first,” Mark ordered.

            Jack pursed his lips, thinking. Mark knew pretty much everything about him already, so he’d probably be able to spot the lie pretty easily. Still, there were certain things Jack hadn’t told him before.

            “Okay, here’s my five. I’ve always wanted to be a psychologist, I’ve broken twelve bones over the course of my life, I once dated a girl named Alannah who woke me up at three in the mornin’ to try and get me to try LSD, when I was a kid I wanted to grow up to be a video game character, and I absolutely love the countryside.”

            “It’s the first one,” Mark said immediately, and Jack nodded. “C’mon, Jack, at least make them hard. You even _told_ me you just got a psych degree out of necessity on this trip.”

            Jack laughed. “Did I? I forgot I said that.”

            “How have you managed to break _twelve_ bones in your short life? And why haven’t I heard this LSD story before?”

            “Well most of those were sports injuries, or rather ‘my parents made me try sports against my will so therefore I almost died on numerous occasions playing them.’ And I have no fuckin’ explanation for the LSD thing. Things were completely normal until that happened.”

            “What’d you do? I hope you left her right then and there.”

            Jack chuckled nervously. “Well yeah, of course.” He could’ve admitted that he tried a little taste of it just to please her, but that was humiliating. At least it explained six of the broken bones. “It’s your turn now.”

            Mark sat thoughtfully for a few moments before saying, “I am terrified of mannequins, when I was in second grade a girl kissed me on the cheek and I was so shocked that I threw a rock at her head, I never actually wanted to be a web designer, if I was a girl my mom was going to name me Bethany, and I’m allergic to alcohol.”

            Jack thought about it. He knew for a fact that two or three of them were true, but he didn’t know for certain which one was the lie.

            “Um, I guess the second one?”

            “You’re wrong, it’s the fourth. The teacher was super pissed at me for the rock thing, too. He made me clean all the chalkboard erasers as punishment.”

            “Damn, that’s harsh.” A sudden realization hit Jack. “Wait, you didn’t wanna be a web designer?”

            “Nope. Not at all, in fact.”

            “But you’re so good at it!”

            “Just because I’m good at something doesn’t mean I wanna do it,” Mark half-chuckled.

            “Well, what _did_ you wanna do then?”

            “I honestly wish I could’ve done something in video games,” he confessed, staring wistfully ahead at the road. “I don’t wanna design them or anything, I wouldn’t be good at that…I guess I wish there was just some way I could’ve, I dunno, played them for a living or something.”

            Jack nodded slowly. “You could’ve been some kind of reviewer or critic,” he suggested.

            “Nah, that sounds boring,” Mark waved off.

            “Well what about bein’ one of those let’s-players on YouTube? Like that PewDiePie guy?”

            Mark snorted. “You think so?” he asked amusedly.

            “Well sure, why not?” Jack insisted. “It certainly worked out for him. He’s a millionaire now, I think.” Jack smiled, staring up through the sunroof dreamily. “We could both do it, just imagine that. Imagine bein’ able to make money by losin’ at _Rocket League_.”

            “C’mon Jack, let’s be real. _Us_? As _let’s-players_?” Mark rolled his eyes, but he was grinning widely.

            Jack laughed a little, resting his arms behind his head. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Like _that’d_ ever happen.”

* * *

            About twenty minutes outside of Chicago, Mark pulled into a gas station.

            “Would you mind filling the car up while I refill our snack supply?” he requested.

            Jack stood up and stretched. “Well, since it’s your car why don’t I get the snacks?”          

            Mark raised his eyebrows. “Because all you’re gonna buy is fucking turkey jerky.”

            “Aw, c’mon, no I won’t,” Jack pouted. “I’ll be a good boy, wait’ll ya see. Just gimme a chance.”

            Mark sighed and pretended to think it over. “ _Fine_ ,” he said theatrically, “but this is your _last chance_.” He handed Jack a twenty dollar bill and began filling up the car himself.

            “Don’t worry, I won’t let you down,” Jack promised. He then walked in the store and immediately grabbed five bags of jerky, interspersing it with Combos and fruit roll-ups. He also bought two hot dogs from the warmer, and just because he had five bucks left over he bought a _$100,000 Club_ scratch off on a whim.

            As he was paying, his phone rang in his pocket, which was weird because Jack’s family never called him directly from Ireland (the distance made it too expensive) and the only friend of his who called him regularly was pumping gas about fifteen feet away. He hoped it wasn’t Lauren; the few days of silence from her had been a blessing, and he really didn’t want to give those up. But when he fished his phone out of his pocket, he didn’t recognize the number.

            Jack answered it confusedly. “Uh, hello?”

            “Hello? Is this Jack?”

            “Y-yes, who’s speaking?”

            “Oh good! Hi, Jack! This is Ma, from Arizona.”

            “Really? Hi! It’s good to hear from you!” Jack couldn’t help smiling. He hadn’t realized he missed Charlene until just now. “What’s up? Why’re you callin’ me?”

            “Well I’m just checking up on one of my favorite boys,” she said sweetly, and Jack couldn’t help feeling flattered. “How’s the trip going? You haven’t broken down on any more country roads, have you?”

            “No ma’am, none,” Jack chuckled. “In fact, Mark’s pumpin’ gas in the car right now. We’re right about to go to Chicago.”

            “Oh, that’s exciting. Say, how are things with Mark?”

            “Things are fine, ma’am, what do you mean?” Jack wandered away from the checkout counter with his purchases in a bag (he pocketed the scratch off, though, so he wouldn’t lose it) and leaned against the exit door.

            “Well I mean, how’ve things been with him since leaving Arizona? Have you two made any progress?”

            “Progress in what?” Jack had a sinking feeling of where this was going. “In our _relationship_?”

            “Yes! I knew you could do it, boy. You’re not as dim as you look.”

            “Uh…thanks?”

            “Oh don’t take offense none, I was just teasing. But go ahead, tell me the truth! Have you told Mark how you feel about him yet?”

            Jack squirmed, his face heating up considerably. “I-I-I don’t feel _anythin’_ for him,” he lied through his teeth. “That’s a pretty invasive question to—”

            “Don’t lie to me, boy. A blind nun could’ve seen the tension between the two of you,” Charlene snapped. “I’m guessing you haven’t told him yet, then?”

            Jack had no idea how Charlene knew with such conviction that Jack had unrequited love, but he sighed. There was clearly no use lying to her about it anymore.

            “No, I haven’t said anything,” he murmured defeatedly.

            “ _Well_ , now we’re getting somewhere,” she said decisively. “Now son, I’m gonna give you some advice I wish I’d given myself about forty years ago.”        

            “Um…all right then.”

            “I used to work for a car repair store of my father’s back in my twenties,” she said matter-of-factly, “and I worked with a man named Kyle who moved here from California. Now honey, if you wanna know what the definition of a _hunk_ is, you’d need to take a look at this man while he was working under the hood of a car.”

            Jack laughed a little. “That handsome, huh?”

            “You would have just _died_ to watch him do an oil change without a shirt on,” she said wistfully. “Now, the problem was, I was too scared to advance on him because I didn’t want my daddy to fire either of us for ‘office romance’. Kyle and I became friends, though, and we’d do things all the time together, he’d get me little presents and take me to see pictures, we’d drive down highways at night singing songs…it was a wonderful summer, believe you me.

            “Now, of course, that year was the year the Vietnam war ended, and Kyle had to go back home to take care of his older brother who came back with some injuries, and I never saw that boy again. Now don’t misunderstand me, because I love my husband and I’d do anything in the world for him, but every day I can’t help but wonder what would’ve happened if I’d just stopped being so afraid of what would happen if I told Kyle how I felt before he had to go.”

            Jack nodded, gulping. “So what’re you tryin’ to say?” he asked, even though he was pretty sure he knew already.

            “Boy, if you don’t hurry your ass up, your Vietnam war will come,” Charlene said warningly. “It may be that Mark finds somebody new, or he finds a new career, or any number of things. But you’ll regret it every day of your life if you let him slip you by.”

            The door Jack had his back to dinged, but he didn’t turn around to see who’d entered. He cleared his throat. “Yes ma’am, I understand. I’ll tell him soon, I promise.”

            “That’s a good boy. Now be happy and enjoy the rest of your trip, okay?”

            “I will.”

            “There you go. I’ll check in with you again here in a few days.”

            “You don’t have to—”

            “Don’t be ridiculous, I’ve got nothing better to do. Goodbye, hon.” The line went dead before Jack could say a word.

            “Who was that?” Mark asked, and Jack whirled around. He clutched his chest.

            “Dude, you startled me,” he laughed a little, mostly to try and change the subject. “I bought everythin’. Is the car all full?”

            “Yup, it’s done. Why won’t you tell me who was on the phone?” Mark pressed, his brow furrowed.

            “I will, I don’t mind. It was my dad,” he lied, feeling his palms grow sweaty.

            “What’d he want?”

            “Just to check up on me, see how I’m doin’, y’know.”

            “Why’d he call you? I thought your family never called you because of how expensive it was.”

            God dammit, Mark remembered everything. Jack shifted his weight uncomfortably. “Well…this was important to him, I guess.”

            “What did you promise to tell someone soon?” Mark interrogated, his face getting more and more intense.

            Jack reddened, and he shooed him off. “Jesus, Mark, it was a personal phone call. Could you please not be so nosy? Everything’s fine.”

            Mark frowned. He shrugged one shoulder. “Fine. C’mon, let’s get going.” He headed out the door.

            Jack sighed and rushed after him. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings—”

            “You didn’t,” Mark brushed it off. He glanced back at him and offered a small smile. “Get in the car. What snacks did you buy?”

            Jack handed him the bag as he got into his seat, mostly because he didn’t want to admit that he’d broken his promise. He watched Mark’s face as he filtered through the snacks, and he could pinpoint the exact moment when he found the jerky, because he shot him a look of faux-disapproval.

            “I expect more from you, Jack,” he sighed, handing him back the bag. “Truly, you have lost all of my trust.”

            Jack was giggling. “Oh, _such_ a shame.” He ripped open one bag and triumphantly chewed a few up while Mark pulled out and drove back onto the highway.

* * *

            They reached Chicago quickly, the welcome sign hanging high above them on the highway. Jack grinned widely as they left the barren street landscape and quickly became swallowed by enormous skyscrapers and droves upon droves of people walking along the sidewalks.

            “Holy shit,” he murmured, looking around in wonderment. There was something so _charming_ about it. He’d been afraid that living in L.A. would desensitize him to cities like this, but he still found himself amazed by just how huge and sprawling the city was, and how tiny he felt sitting in its center.

            “This is cool, isn’t it?” Mark asked, seeming enamored by it himself. “Let’s find a parking garage and walking around, we’ll be sure to find something to do.”

            Mark pulled into the first garage they found and left most of their stuff in the car. He and Jack integrated into the crowd on the sidewalks and began to wander aimlessly.

            “What do you wanna do? Do you wanna get lunch or something?” Mark asked. “I mean, I know it’s not good as processed turkey jerky, but—”

            “Yeah, sure, I’m starvin’!”

            They wandered for a bit before coming across a bistro that looked appealing. There, they were both more than happy to sample the wine and socialize over shrimp linguini and cheese rolls.

            “Is there any place in particular you wanna check out?” Mark asked as he chowed down on the rolls, which were proving to be more addictive than crack cocaine or even turkey jerky. Jack wanted to order five hundred of them but figured the waitress wouldn’t exactly allow that.

            “Nah, c’mon dude, I’ve picked everywhere we’ve gone,” Jack replied. Mark shook his head.

            “I picked the St. Louis arch, which you were man enough to go on even though you were terrified of it,” he said almost in admiration. “I figure it’s only fair that you pick the next place.”

            Jack sipped his wine thoughtfully. He wasn’t normally a wine drinker and was surprised by how much he liked what he’d been given. He wanted to ask where he could get some himself, but there was probably no way in hell he could afford it. Even shit as cheap as Miller Lite was getting expensive these days.

            “Well…let’s consult the Oracle,” He pulled out his phone and opened Siri, asking, “What are good tourist destinations in Chicago?”

            Mark giggled. “That’s not how you consult a freaking _Oracle_ ,” he admonished. He pulled out his own phone and said in a reverent voice, “Oh wise and mystical Oracle of the gods, where are some satisfactory places to partake in Chicago entertainment?”

            Siri responded with, “I didn’t            quite get that,” in her smug little tone, and Jack couldn’t help laughing.

            “Looks like the Oracle didn’t like you very much,” he simpered, and Mark rolled his eyes. Jack’s phone popped up with a Google search, and the first result was the Navy Pier. “Wanna go here? It looks cool, there’s plenty of attractions.”

            Mark glanced at it and nodded. “Sure, that looks good to me. Let’s pay and get out of here.”

            Jack excused himself to go to the bathroom shortly before the check came. When he returned Mark was signing a receipt. Jack saw with a sinking-gut feeling that the bill was much more expensive than he thought it would be, and he sighed.

            “Dude, let me pay half or something,” he practically begged. Mark jumped and hugged the bill to his chest to hide it.

            “You scared me, Jesus,” he huffed as Jack reached for the check. Mark held it out of his reach. “Jack, no, I won’t let you. Lay off, okay?”

            Jack practically groaned in frustration. “How many times do I have to offer before—?”

            “Are you ready, sir?” the waitress asked, approaching the table. Mark handed her the check almost too enthusiastically.

            “Here you go, have a nice day,” he said, standing and speed walking out of the restaurant. Jack followed him hotly.

            “Fine, I see what you did there,” the latter said in annoyance. “But I’ll pay you back, I swear to God I will.”

            “C’mon Jack, let it go,” Mark encouraged. “Look, let’s just go to the pier and have fun, okay?”

            Jack shrugged and didn’t comment. He stuffed his hands in his pockets as they mingled back in with the crowd.

* * *

            The Navy Pier wasn’t too far away. The sun was beginning to turn to dusk, and the clouds overhead were loose and pretty as they slowly turned shell pink. The Navy Pier Ferris wheel towered over them, and Jack got more excited the closer to it they got. (Not that he had any intention of going up inside it. He’d had enough experience with heights to settle him for the rest of his life.)

            “This place looks great!” Mark said enthusiastically.

            “Thank the Oracle for the suggestion,” Jack replied with a little giggle, and Mark smiled at him fondly. The gesture made Jack’s heart patter unevenly, and he had to stop and breathe for a moment.

            _Don’t get your pretty little hopes up. Just try to have fun and_ not _lust after your one and only friend for an hour, would you?_

They walked under the pier’s sign and into an even thicker crowd of people, except these were almost all tourists judging by the way the pointed and took pictures of every square inch of the place. Jack laughed when he saw all of the souvenir shops.

            “D’you think we’ll find any Chicago, Illinois thongs or anythin’ in there?” he asked, pointing. Mark saw it and snorted.

            “Dear God, I hope so. That would make my night.”

            “Seriously, though, do you see anything you might wanna go on?” Jack asked. He looked around at the different attractions and restaurants, the majority of which were theme park rides. “Just nothin’ with heights, please.”

            “That’s fine. What about there?” He pointed at a sign reading _Amazing Chicago’s Funhouse Maze_. “Feel like getting lost for a little while?”

            Jack shrugged. “Sure, why not? You ever been in a funhouse maze before?”

            “Yeah, once or twice when I was a kid.” They walked through the entrance and stood in line at the ticket counter. “They’re not that difficult, we’ll probably get through in five minutes or so.”

            “Five minutes? Isn’t that sorta optimistic?”

            “Well how long do you think it’ll take?”

            “I dunno. More like fifteen?”

            “You’re crazy.” Mark bought their tickets (Jack didn’t even bother protesting despite how badly he wanted to), and they walked with the line to be given plastic gloves. “Maybe it’ll take _you_ fifteen minutes, but _I’ve_ got experience on my side.”

            “From when you were a fuckin’ kid!” Jack laughed. “What, you think you’re so tough that you can beat me?”

            “Fine, how about this? Whoever finishes last picks the punishment for the other person, does that sound like a deal?”

            “Oh, so it’s a bet, is it?” Jack said deviously. “Fine, I’ll take your bet. You’d better shake on it, though.”

            “Of course, my good man,” Mark responded in a truly awful British accent. He stuck out a hand and held his other one in the air to show that he wasn’t crossing his fingers, and Jack did the same just as they passed through the entrance.

            As soon as they got inside, both men realized they’d made a mistake. The walls that were visible were very dark, and overhead were bright green lights that flashed on the mirrors and made them somewhat blinding. They shared a quick glance before Mark darted forward, his hands out in front of him to keep him from smashing headfirst into any faulty paths, and Jack scrambled to catch up.

            The first thing that Jack learned about mirror mazes (or at least this one in particular) was that they were infuriatingly identical. The right path looked exactly the same as the mirror image of it, and nine times out of ten he ended up having to go at a very slow pace poking the air in front of him until he got the right archway. He passed plenty of families in similar circumstances, and everybody had their hands out in front of them like confused zombies. He even passed Mark a few times, and each time they shared a jokingly intense glare of rivalry before going back to their own business.

            It took Jack a solid thirty minutes before he caught sight of the outside world. As soon as he did, he ran straight for it—only to bounce off of a mirror and land flat on his ass. Groaning, he turned around, thanking God that no one saw that…just as he heard a familiar hysterical laugh.

            “Holy shit—that was—holy shit, you just _smacked_ into—oh my God, fucking Christ, that was beautiful…I’m fucking crying….”

            Mark was standing outside, the little shit, and he was practically doubled over laughing his ass off. Jack stood slowly, his nose throbbing but his pride the only thing that had been truly wounded.

            “Yeah, hardy fuckin’ har,” he grumbled, stepping out into the actual exit, which Mark had obviously found first. “How long’ve you been out here?”

            “Only…like…thirty seconds,” Mark wheezed. Tears were streaming down his face as he tried to stand up straight again. “If you hadn’t run into that mirror we probably would’ve tied.”

            “Great. I wish I’d known that two fuckin’ minutes ago,” Jack said ruefully. “ _But_ , I am a man of my word. So what’s my punishment? I feel like I’ve already been punished enough at this point.”

            “Oh no, you’re not getting off that easy,” Mark said roguishly. He looked around with an evil glint in his eye until he caught sight of his prize. “I won’t be satisfied until I get you all the way up _there_.”

            He pointed up in the sky, and Jack followed his gaze with a sinking stomach. “God dammit, Mark, you’re such a jerk.” He stared at the Ferris wheel as it turned slowly in the distance, every revolution of its being toying with Jack like a demon from hell.

* * *

            “How many?” the ride operator asked in monotone, obviously ready to go home. Jack was tempted to say none and make a break for it, but he swallowed and held up two fingers as though he were holding up his own ax for execution.

            The operator pointed him and Mark towards an unoccupied seat, and Jack walked towards with trembling legs. “I fuckin’ hate these things,” he bellyached as he got into his seat.

            Mark watched him uncertainly. “Y’know, Jack, if you really don’t wanna do this we can get off. I won’t mind.”

            “Nah, I agreed to the fuckin’ bet, I gotta pay the price,” he sighed resignedly. He hugged his knees to his chest, as childlike as it was. “I just wanna get it over with.”

            “Okay…,” Mark shrugged, settling in for the ride. “It shouldn’t be that bad. This thing isn’t nearly as big as the St. Louis arch.”

            “Yeah, but it offers a lot less protection between here and the ground,” Jack grumbled.

            The operator filled the rest of the seats at ground level, then wordlessly returned to his station and pulled a lever. The Ferris wheel lurched into motion, and Jack immediately grabbed the two things nearest him. One was the silver bar to his left that held the door in place; the other was warm and firm. He glanced over and quickly turned red from head to toe, staring at his hand gripped tightly around Mark’s forearm.

            “Sorry, didn’t mean to—” he murmured, pulling his arm back. Mark shook his head.

            “It’s fine, don’t worry. You can grab me if you want. I won’t let you fall down.”

            Jack flushed redder and shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. I’m fine.” He wasn’t, but that wasn’t really the point. For the first time in his life, he decided that looking down at the immense drop was better than looking at his companion. He glanced back and saw that the Earth was receding beneath him at an alarming rate, and his entire body felt numb. Weren’t Ferris wheels supposed to go slowly?!

            “Hey, dude, it’s gonna be okay,” Mark said comfortingly. He gripped Jack’s upper arm and pulled him in a little bit, away from the edge. Now Jack’s heart was racing for an entirely different reason. “Look at me. I won’t let you fall, okay? I won’t.”

            Jack looked, even though he knew he probably shouldn’t. Mark’s eyes were big and soft and full of promise, and Jack couldn’t help himself from feeling comforted.

            “Thanks…I trust you.” He glanced at Mark’s hand, which was still on his forearm. He wondered if he should say something. Mark wasn’t moving it, and in all honesty Jack didn’t want him to. He decided to be quiet.  

            Their chair climbed steadily up the Wheel of Suffering, and each movement that brought it closer to the top made Jack wish he was dead all the more. He tried to think of something—anything—that would distract him, and he blurted the first thing that popped into his head.

            “ _All my life has been a series of doors in my face / And then suddenly I bump into you…_ ” Jack was quickly mortified at what he’d said but he didn’t take it back, even when Mark gave him a weird look.

            “Is that that one _Frozen_ song?” he asked, clearly stifling laughter. It was one of the later songs on their karaoke CD.

            Jack nodded, flushed but welcoming any diversion that took his focus away from the ten thousand feet of death beneath him. “Uh, yeah. I’m distractin’ myself. Wanna sing it with me?”

            Mark stared at him for a few moments, and Jack decided with a sinking heart that he wasn’t going to join in, but he finally busted in with, “ _I've been searching my whole life to find my own place / And maybe it's the party talking or the chocolate fondue—_ ”

            Jack felt himself smile a tiny bit. “ _But with you_ ”

            “ _But with you!_ ” Mark answered.

            “ _I found my place…_ ”

            “ _I see your face…_ ”

            They both rang out, “ _And it’s nothing like I’ve ever known before! / Love is an open door!_ ”

            “WHO THE HELL IS SINGING _FROZEN_?!” someone else on the ride barked suddenly, and Mark and Jack both snapped their mouths shut, eyes impossibly wide with surprise. There were deathly silent for about thirty seconds, before Jack snorted like a pig and he and Mark erupted into a fit of uncontrollable giggles, the hilarity of which carried Jack over the topmost part of the Ferris wheel and onto the downward stretch.

            “ _I mean it’s crazy…_ ” Mark sang invitingly, and Jack jumped back into it, even though his lungs hurt from laughing.

            “ _What?_ ”

            “ _How we finish each other’s—_ ”

            “ _Sandwiches!_ ” Jack practically yelled.

            Mark laughed. “ _That’s what I was gonna say!_ ”

            “SHUT UP!” the same person shouted, and Jack practically shook with suppressed laughter.

            “ _I’ve never met someone who thinks so much like meeeeee! / Jinx! Jinx again!_ ” they sang together, Mark’s smile practically as bright as a star.

            “YOU’RE BOTH GAY AS HELL!”

            Suddenly, Mark whirled around, cupped his hands around his mouth, and screamed, “YOU’RE DAMN RIGHT WE ARE!”

            Jack almost cracked a rib he laughed so hard. The Ferris wheel swing actually shook as he and Mark doubled over unable to breathe, but Jack wasn’t scared at all. He rolled to the side and hit something big and soft, and it wasn’t until maybe sixty seconds later that he realized he’d buried his face in Mark’s side, but neither of them seemed to mind. They were still cackling as the ride slowed to a stop and the ride operator unlocked their gate.

            “Exit to your left please,” he said, but it sounded more like an order than a piece of advice. Jack felt lightheaded from lack of oxygen, and he had to use his shirt to wipe away the tears on his face. Mark wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him into a standing position, leading him down the stairs as they both struggled to recover.

            “Oh wow…holy shit, why was that so funny?” Mark wondered aloud, sounding a bit hoarse.

            “I have no fuckin’ idea,” Jack said breathlessly. “But he…he really needed to… _let it go_.”

            Mark snorted loudly, and he covered his mouth. “No, no, don’t make me laugh—I’m gonna die,” he begged, and Jack nodded in agreement.

            “Yeah, holy crap, I’m gonna pass out.” He stood up straight and suddenly realized that Mark still had his arm around him. He turned scarlet, and Mark glanced at him and seemed to realize it for himself, because he quickly returned his arm to his side.

            “Uh…well, yeah, so that was fun,” the latter said awkwardly as they exited the gate and walked back into the throng of people. “Hey, d’you mind if I use the bathroom real quick? I’m about to piss my fucking pants.”

            Jack giggled. It hurt his stomach to laugh now. “Yeah, sure, I’ll wait for you.”

            He followed Mark to the nearest restroom and waited outside. He leaned against the wall and looked up at the nighttime sky. There weren’t many stars visible, but the dark, cobalt color really made it beautiful, especially with all the neon that the Navy Pier was shooting out. Smiling contentedly, he stuck his hands in his pockets and felt a piece of cardstock. He pulled it out and was surprised to find the scratch off he’d bought a few miles back.

            Jack shrugged. Now was as good a time as any to scratch it. Maybe he’d get ten bucks and buy some jerky at the next gas station. He pulled a penny out of his other pocket and read the instructions, which were easy enough. _Scratch the gold bar symbols. Getting a star means you win the dollar amount printed. Getting three stars means you win the grand $100,000 prize_.

            Jack scratched the symbols, muttering their contents out loud. “Bell…horseshoe…clover, _heh_ …there’s a star…clover…shoe…ooh, another star…flower…pumpkin…star.” Jack glanced at his prizes. Each star printed that he won a dollar. Three bucks wasn’t too bad, he guessed.

            Jack began to pocket the scratch off, but suddenly he froze. Something in his brain clicked, and he whipped it out again to reread the instructions.

            _Getting a star means you win the dollar amount printed. Getting three stars means you win the grand $100,000 prize_.

            Jack looked over his symbols again, his pulse skyrocketing. “Bell. Horseshoe. Clover. Star. Clover. Star. Flower. Pumpkin. Star.”

            Three stars. Jack had gotten three stars.

            “…”

            Apparently, Jack had come into a bit of money.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not even gonna lie. This is my favorite chapter of anything. Ever. I think I like this even better than the climax of "Personal Information", and that's saying a lot. I almost cried laughing during the Ferris wheel part.
> 
> I was going to have the climax happen in this chapter, but it's way longer than a lot of the others already, so I stopped it here. I can 100% guarantee that it'll happen in the next one, and then we'll have the epilogue, so I think that makes sixteen chapters, but I don't know for sure. I'm sad that this fic is ending, but it's also good because I've got two new ideas that I want to write for you guys. :)
> 
> Comments and constructive criticism are always appreciated! Just be polite. :)


	15. The Night Vietnam Didn't Come

            They rode the swinging chairs (a ride that was more Jack’s speed and that he actually enjoyed) and played a carnival game in which Mark won Jack a big stuffed monkey. Jack felt a bit like a doting girlfriend carrying it around, but it wasn’t a bad feeling.

            “You getting hungry? We’re way past dinnertime, but I’m about to eat my own foot,” Mark joked. Jack nodded.

            “Yeah, let’s get out of here and find somewhere to eat.” They left Pier Park and wandered a bit between big, beautiful buildings and people wearing all sorts of interesting clothes. Jack had never really felt foreign before, but Chicago was such a far cry from Ireland that he couldn’t help feeling delightfully exotic.

            “Hey, what about there?” Jack pointed up at a sign that read LandShark Beer Garden. “I could go for some beer.”

            Mark laughed a little. “Fine, if you want.” They walked inside and had to wait a bit for a table for two. The place was apparently pretty popular. They could hear live music being played out in the back.

            Jack was enormously tempted to just tell Mark about the winnings now, but he wanted to wait until the moment was right. It was a huge surprise, and it practically had him bouncing in his chair. But he needed to wait. He needed to wait until they were sitting down, until Mark was eating and enjoying himself, until he was already thinking about paying for the meal. Then Jack would swoop in and reassure him that he never needed to pay for anything ever again.

            Mark had spent the majority of their adult lives taking care of Jack, it seemed. He always extended his home when Jack got his heart broken; always helped him page through wanted ads when he lost job after job; always answered the phone at three in the morning whenever Jack was drunk or lost or broken down on the side of a highway because he could only afford piece-of-shit cars. It was finally time for him to return the enormous amount of favors he’d gotten from Mark over the years, and he couldn’t be more excited.

            They were seated outside, not too far away from the live band, and each given a food and a drink menu. Both of their eyes widened when they saw the enormous selection of alcohol. It appeared that they didn’t order single drinks, but rather whole packages of different beers and wines and spirits.

            “Jesus, this really _is_ a beer garden,” Mark chuckled. “I’m just gonna get the cheapest option, what about you?”

            Jack was tempted to say the same, but why? He would be the one paying for it at the end of the day anyway. He might as well indulge, now that he was modestly rich.

            “I’m gonna go for the two-hour premium package, if that’s fine by you,” he said proudly. Mark looked at the menu and raised his eyebrows in surprise. He didn’t make any comments about money, but just shrugged and said, “Fine, if you think you can handle that.”

            “Oh, I know I can,” Jack said challengingly. “I’m an Irishman, for God’s sake. You can try some of ‘em too, if you think you’re man enough.”

            Mark laughed. “You tempt me, but I don’t wanna spend my night in Chicago drunk,” he admitted. “I had enough of that in Vegas.”

            “Aw, you’re no fun.” The waitress came back and asked for their orders, and they each requested their respective packages.

            Jack got a bit more than he bargained for. Mark was given a modest selection of domestic beer and wine, but Jack was served more types of alcohol than he could even name. Kraken Black Spiced Rum, Bacardi Rum, Malibu Rum; El Jimador Tequila, Grey Goose and Absolut Vodka, Tanqueray Gin. Most of the time he had no idea what he was even drinking, and after a certain amount of time (either due to laziness or tipsiness) he stopped bothering to keep track.

            “Dude, you’re getting _really_ flushed,” Mark pointed out at one point with a laugh. “Do you think you should maybe slow down?”

            “I dunno, probably,” Jack answered languidly, because his head felt fuzzy and everything was starting to become hilarious. He set down what he was drinking and took a swig of the water bottle they’d provided him. “I hope the food gets here soon, I shouldn’t be doin’ this on an empty stomach.”

            “Yeah, no joke.”

            The waitress brought their dinners, which were both from the Taste of Chicago side of the menu. As Jack ate his Taylor Street pizza and Italian sausage, he could feel his head beginning to clear, and he silently thanked God that he wouldn’t have to do his big lottery ticket reveal while drunk.

            “You look better now,” Mark said with a smile. Jack nodded.

            “Yeah, good thing too. I don’t want you babysittin’.” He took another swig of his favorite drink—he was pretty sure it was the Malibu Rum but he couldn’t be sure. “You wanna try any of these? I’ve got more than I know what to do with.”

            “Yeah, I’ll try some. This one any good?” Mark held up the Pinot Noir and took a drink of it, and his face immediately changed. “No, nope, no it wasn’t. That was terrible. Yuck. Where’s my Sprite?” He chugged his soda while Jack laughed.

            “You can’t handle it, huh?”

            “Hey, shut up, it has nothing to do with that. That one just tasted like ballsack.” Mark picked up another drink and tasted it, this time with a smile. “See? This one’s good. Which one is it?”

            “Uh, I think that’s some of the imported beer. Jesus, I don’t even know, I lost count.” He laughed a little hysterically. He was probably still tipsy. Mark took another drink of it and tried a couple of other samples, and soon he was beginning to flush too.

            “All right, let’s stop before we’re shitfaced,” Mark said eloquently. They were both finished with their meals and had drank as much alcohol as they could handle. Mark hailed the waitress for the check, and Jack decided now was as good a time to do the reveal as any, especially since the bill was probably over one hundred dollars.

            “Mark, listen. I have somethin’ to tell you.”

            Mark turned in his seat, his eyes going wide. He looked almost scared.

            “Uh, okay…what is it?” he asked cautiously, and Jack was confused. What did he _think_ he was going to say?

            “Well, remember the gas station where you gave me twenty bucks to buy turkey jerky?” he prompted. The waitress came over and began clearing the enormous amount of mostly-empty glasses that littered their table.

            Mark nodded. “Yeah. I don’t remember giving you the money _to_ buy jerky, though.” He half-smiled.

            “Yeah, whatever, I heard what I wanted to hear. Anyway, I had like five bucks left over, so I bought a scratch off, because why not?”

            Mark chuckled. “Well I’ll tell you why not. It’s a scam. No one ever actually wins those things, dummy.”

            Jack practically jumped out of his seat, he was so excited. “Well then take a look for yourself.” He pulled the scratch off out of his pocket and handed it to Mark, watching his eyes scan the instructions and the winnings. It took a few minutes for it to register, but when it did Mark’s jaw completely dropped.

            “Holy shit, Jack. Holy fucking shit.” His gaze snapped up to him, and he literally jumped out of his chair. “Holy mother of God, Jack, what the fuck?!”

            Jack laughed, jumping up as well. “I know, right?! I scratched it while you were in the bathroom! I almost fuckin’ pissed myself!”

            Out of nowhere, Mark reached forward and yanked Jack in for an aggressive bear hug, and Jack’s face flushed so quickly it almost made him lightheaded.

            “I can’t believe it! Congratulations, dude! What’re you gonna spend it on?”

            Jack laughed, his voice muffled by Mark’s shirt. “Well some of it I’ll invest,” he said to his friend’s chest. He pulled out of the hug. “I might use some to buy a car I can actually fuckin’ rely on, if there’s enough left. But, uh…I was kinda hopin’ to give some of it to you.”

            Mark’s brow furrowed. “To me? Why?” He laughed and slugged Jack in the shoulder playfully. “It’s your winnings, dude. You need that money. Maybe you can live off of it for long enough to get a job you actually like. Hey, I can help you with that!”

            “Well that’s sweet of you, Mark, but I really wanted to use it to pay you back,” Jack insisted gently. “Y’know, since you’ve bought me this whole trip and paid for almost everythin’, it just seems fair, right?”

            The waitress brought their check back and set it on the table, but Mark didn’t look at it. His smile fell.

            Jack was confused. “What’s wrong?”

            “Jack, why are you so hell-bent on paying me back?”

            The question took Jack by surprise. He shrugged. “I dunno…’cause I feel like I should?”

            Mark shook his head, and he almost seemed… _angry_.

            “Jack, I don’t feel obligated to do _anything_ for you. I pay for this stuff because I _want_ to. I wish you’d just let me do it and not feel guilty for anything.” Mark picked up the check and slid his credit card in, and Jack opened his mouth to protest, but he cut in, “It really kind of hurts my feelings that you won’t let me buy you anything without it being a point of contention.”

            Jack felt a little wounded. “It just doesn’t seem right,” he argued, frowning. “I was excited to tell you about this money. I thought it’d be my way of repaying you for this amazing trip you took me on. It’s only fair, right?”

            Mark rolled his eyes. The waitress brought his card back, and Mark immediately set off for the exit. Jack grabbed his monkey and chased after him. The situation was getting somewhat familiar, and not in a good way.

            “Hey, would you wait for me?!” Jack demanded, stuffing the scratch off back in his pocket. “Stop fuckin’ walkin’ away from me all the time!”

            Mark groaned audibly, and he turned around and faced Jack on the sidewalk outside of the beer garden. “Well what am I _supposed_ to do?!” he demanded angrily. “I can’t say anything for fear of hurting your feelings or saying too much!”

            “Saying too much?” Jack echoed quizzically. “What the hell’re you goin’ on about now?”

            “Why do you think I took you on this trip, Jack? What’s your honest guess?”

            That was certainly a question Jack wasn’t expecting. He spluttered, “Uh…well, uh, I guess…I guess ‘cause you wanted to make me feel better after I got cheated on?”

            Mark’s jaw locked, and he clenched one of his fists. He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head, muttering something unintelligible. Jack took a step back, because it almost looked like he was about to get punched.

            “Dude, what the hell’s wrong with you?” he asked fearfully. “What did I say to piss you off?”

            “Jack, it’s not that you pissed me off! It’s that you’re so…so fucking _clueless_!”

            Well _ouch_. Jack glared at him, confusion and anger mixing.

            “What’s so goddamn important about this stupid money that it makes you _this_ angry when I try to pay you back?!” Jack demanded, still standing at a distance. Mark looked up at him, his jaw set in annoyance. “What’s wrong with me wanting to repay my debts to a friend who _already_ gives me too much?”

            “What the hell is _that_ supposed to mean?”

            “Well…I mean, you let me stay at your apartment all the damn time, you’re constantly buyin’ my groceries and my gas, you put more effort into findin’ me jobs than advancing in your own, you’re the one who always my calls when I get dumped…I mean, I appreciate it, but it’s too much to ask of you without givin’ you anythin’ in return!” Jack pulled the scratch off out of his pocket and showed it to Mark, and the latter took a few steps closer. “Is it wrong of me to just want to pay you back?”

            “Jack, _how_ are you this stupid?! Why do you think I do all of those things? Why hasn’t it crossed your mind what the reason might _be_?” Mark griped, looking almost a little offended at this point. Jack _really_ wished he knew what he was missing.

            “I don’t know! Because you feel sorry for me?”

            Mark’s jaw dropped, and he held his arms out in a _what the fuck_?-shaped gesture.

            “You fucking blind-ass!” he cried, his Adam’s apple working profusely as he swallowed. He seemed to be working up the nerve for something. “Jack, it’s—it’s because I’m _in love_ with you!”

* * *

            Jack stopped. Mark stopped. The street stopped. Chicago stopped. The entire world had ground to a halt. Jack’s very heart had ceased to beat. Jack was in a coma. Jack was probably going to die now.

            His breath was coming short and fast, and both men were staring at each other, pumping with enough adrenaline to run for miles without stopping. Jack’s tongue had forgotten how to communicate, and his brain wasn’t exactly supplying the words needed to respond to this particular set of circumstances. Right now his head was completely empty, save for one sound:

            _!!!!!_

“You…,” he choked out. “You’re…you…you’re—”

            “In love with you, Jack, yes,” Mark answered, probably because he was sick of waiting. “ _Yes_ , I am. Jesus, Jack, I’ve been in love with you since high school.”

            “But….” Mark was obviously saying words, but they didn’t make sense. _Mark_ in love with _him_? These things just didn’t happen. “But…why?”

            “ _Why_?” Mark echoed incredulously, and an amused smile broke over his face. “What kind of a question is that?”

            “A—a perfectly valid one,” Jack stammered. “I mean, I have a right to know.”

            Mark laughed a little bit, and it was a beautiful sound. “Because you’re fucking hilarious,” he started, and Jack felt himself blushing already. “And you talk so tough, but you’re such a big softie.”

            “I am not!”

            “Don’t even lie, yes you are! You fall so hard, and it’s adorable how in love you fall with everyone, even if it’s heartbreaking because it’s for all the wrong people. You’re just so _energetic_ , and so emotive; the way you see the countryside and the city and the way you look at people and listen to music and think it’s all so beautiful. It’s like…I don’t know, it’s like watching a star fall to Earth. God, I can’t explain it, I’m not a poet.” Mark was flushed red too, now, and he tugged at his hair self-consciously. “You’re just like this star, Jack, and anyone who’s ever met you knows that they’d be lucky to even get a little bit of that light that you have. And I love having that light in my life, Jack, I don’t know who I’d be without it!” He reached forward, possibly to touch Jack, but he pulled his hand back at the last second. “I guess I…I guess I’d be lost without you.”

            Jack almost wanted to cry. In fact, he _was_ crying, and he wiped at his eyes furiously. “I…I don’t know what to say,” he laughed embarrassedly. “Jesus, Mark, I didn’t know you felt that way.”

            “Well I don’t know how you could’ve _missed_ it. I wasn’t exactly subtle,” Mark said candidly. “Look, dude, is this okay? I didn’t just ruin everything, right? Because if I did then tell me now so I can go bathe in bleach—”

            “Mark, _no_ , of course you didn’t,” Jack interrupted him. He looked up and was relieved to see that his friend was just as embarrassed as he was to be doing this—especially out here, in public, where people were probably staring. “I don’t know what to…I don’t know how to say—”

            “Just tell me you feel the same way, Jack. Please. I’m literally dying to hear it. I don’t know what I’m gonna do if I can’t have you.” Mark looked incredibly vulnerable, and Jack almost wanted to hug him or maybe punch himself in the face for not saying anything sooner.

            “Yes, Mark,” he said, his voice breathy and uneven with unshed tears. Mark’s face lit up, his heart practically visible on his sleeve, and Jack almost died to see him so happy. “ _Yes_ , yes, of course I do. How could I not?”

            Mark pulled him in for another hug, but it was much different than the one they’d shared inside the restaurant. That hug had been constrained, nervous, and too forced; it was the kind of hug they would’ve shared when they were pretending to just be friends. This one was as open and clingy and amorous as it always could’ve been, and Jack was immensely grateful, because having his head buried in Mark’s shoulder was one of the best feelings in the world. He didn’t know what to do or what he wanted because this was so exhilarating he couldn’t think straight; his heart was pounding its way out of his chest, and he could barely breathe. Was he in love or was he dying? Probably both. Love certainly felt fatal.

            They held on for what felt like forever, but when Mark pulled away Jack still didn’t think it was enough. They both heard a loud boom in the distance, and they looked up to see that Pier Park was firing off a stream of red and green fireworks, their colors streaming brilliantly in the night sky like untethered comets. Jack couldn’t help laughing.

            “Well isn’t that fitting,” he remarked, smiling so wide it hurt his face.

            “And totally cliché,” Mark added, “but what else is new with us?”

            “Yeah, you’re right about that.” Jack looked at him and somehow managed to smile wider. “Especially now that we’re both rich. Don’t think that you bein’ my boyfriend changes anything. I’m still payin’ you back for this trip, you slick fucker.”

            Mark’s face bloomed scarlet, and for once he didn’t argue. “I’m sorry, _what_ did you just call me?”

            “You heard me. You’re all mine now, Fischbach. I hope you’re ready.” Jack laughed a little giddily. Maybe he was still drunk. “Jesus, wait’ll Lauren finds out. She always got a kick out of callin’ me gay whenever I wanted to look in clothing stores.”

            Mark snorted, stepping closer again. They were practically magnetic now, never straying more than a few inches from each other’s side. How had Jack not seen this before? How had he ever managed to convince himself that he could never tell Mark how he felt? Was he really so stupid all his life that he couldn’t tell that each and every one of Mark’s favors was an expression of his pent-up emotions?

            “God dammit, Jack, you’re gonna be the death of me,” Mark sighed fondly. “Jesus, I’m so glad I got that off my chest. That was killing me.”

            “Yeah, same here.” He thought of all the long nights staring at him sleeping, bathed in moonlight with his hair in a mess. What would’ve happened if he’d just _done_ something right then? He remembered Charlene’s words of wisdom—that his Vietnam would come if he wasn’t careful enough—and he almost shuddered to think of how close he’d come to seeing it.

            “Jack, don’t freak out,” Mark blurted suddenly, which obviously made Jack immediately feel the urge to freak out.

            “Why? What’s wrong?”

            “Nothing.” Mark cupped the back of his neck with his hand, and a shiver traveled all the way down Jack’s spine. “Well, at least, I _hope_ nothing.” He leaned in, his lips parted, and everything suddenly clicked for Jack, and in a flash he’d never been so excited and so scared shitless at the same time, but he grabbed Mark’s side because suddenly his hands were working for him and he tasted someone else’s lips—

            And _good God in heaven_ they tasted fantastic. They tasted like the fireworks that were being shot off overhead; they tasted like every ounce of suppressed emotion that Jack had felt over the last couple of days, and he got to feel every last inch of them all at once, and it was all so mind-blowingly beautiful that he feared he might pass out. Mark pulled him in closer, wrapping his arms around him tighter, as though afraid that if he kept too loose a grip on Jack, he might fade away.

            Mark separated but didn’t let go, and it took Jack a moment to stop searching for him and open his eyes. Both of them were red from head to toe, and they smiled stupidly almost in synchronization.

            “ _Yes_!” Mark whooped suddenly, tossing his head back and laughing at the sky. “Fucking _finally_!”

            Jack laughed at him, and suddenly his phone rang. Mark let go of him so he could fish it out of his pocket, and he grinned when he saw the number. He flipped it open.

            “Hello? Hello Jack, are you there?” Charlene asked, shouting over the din of the six kids playing and laughing in the background. “Can you hear me?”

            “Yeah, I can!” he declared, still laughing, completely drunk on love and life and alcohol. “Hey Ma… _MA_! Listen, Ma, I did it! I fuckin’ told him!…Well yeah we’re together now, of course we are! I did it, Ma! My Vietnam didn’t come! _Vietnam didn’t come_!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is longer than I thought it would be, but I honestly don't care because it's damn near perfect and I wouldn't change anything about it. It's a little crowded, but there were just SO MANY THINGS I wanted to put into the big reveal that I couldn't help myself, GAH. I hope it's not a clusterfuck and you guys actually enjoy reading it.
> 
> Comments and constructive criticism are always appreciated! Just please be polite. :)


	16. Epilogue: The Most Perfect Paradise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd recommend listening to Frank Sinatra's "The Way You Look Tonight" while you read the last bit of this chapter. I listened to it on repeat the entire time I was writing the final scene. <3

            “So do you think they’ll already know?”

            Mark laughed a little as they approached the door. Both of them were weighed down by their duffels. They were hoping to get their clothes washed before they left, if Mark’s mother didn’t mind.

            “Know what, that we’re gay or together?” he asked bluntly, and Jack immediately reddened.

            “I dunno…either one?” he stammered, and Mark laughed a little more, pulling him in for a side-hug. He just couldn’t stop touching him, it seemed; it was as though he was making up for lost time. Jack would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy it.

            Mark rang the doorbell, and they immediately heard dogs barking. A smiling older woman came to the door and opened it wide, instantly engulfing Mark in a hug.

            “ _Boys_!” she cried delightedly. Jack smiled at her, and he was taken by surprise as she pulled him into the group hug too. “It’s so good to see you two again! How’ve you been holding up? You’re not dead or bleeding, I see, so that’s good.”

            “Hey, c’mon, have some faith!” Mark laughed, pulling himself out of the embrace. “Can we come in? These bags are heavy.”

            “Oh, and they’re full of your laundry, I assume?” she asked shrewdly, leading them inside. “I suppose you’re going to ask me if I can do it for you before you go.”

            Mark immediately flushed red, and he muttered, “Well, we still would’ve washed it ourselves….”

            “Mm-hm, that’s what I thought. You can use my washer, Mark, that’s not a problem.” They walked into the living room, which was just as spacious and welcoming as Jack remembered. Mark’s mother cupped her hands around her mouth. “ _Thomas_! _Mark is here_!”

            “You invited Thomas down?” Mark asked, smiling in surprise. His mother nodded.

            “He was in the neighborhood anyway. I decided it’d be good for us all to get together again like we used to back when you boys were teenagers.” She smiled at Jack, who had already dropped himself onto the sofa, and he couldn’t help feeling flattered.

            Thomas jogged in from the upstairs, his eyes settling on Mark. They hugged it out (in a manly fashion) and he high-fived Jack like they were old pals again.

            “Good to see you two,” he said cheerfully. “How’s the trip going? You almost out of money?”

            “Well…not exactly,” Jack chuckled. They’d gone to a gas station earlier that day, where the cashier had almost fainted when she saw Jack’s ticket. She immediately contacted the company, and Jack had spoken with a representative on the phone. About an hour of chatting and simultaneously emailing each other later (all of which was done in the gas station, something the manager didn’t seem too pleased about), they’d exchanged information and agreed on sending Jack five thousand dollar installments over the next twenty months.

            “Not exactly?” Thomas echoed. He sat on the opposite couch and smiled invitingly. “What makes you say that?”

            Jack explained the story and showed him and Mark’s mother pictures of the scratch off (they’d had to give it to the cashier so they could check it for fraud).

            “Oh my goodness, Jack, that’s _wonderful_!” she crowed, pulling him in for another hug. “This could turn your whole life around! What’re you going to buy first?”

            “First I’m gonna invest some of it,” he vowed. “Then I’ll probably buy a decent car, ‘cause the one I’ve got right now is a piece of crap.”

            “I’m with you there,” Thomas said faux-gravely, propping his feet up on the coffee table. Mark sat next to him and mirrored him, despite the glare their mother shot them.

            “It’s like you were raised in a barn,” she grumbled, turning back to Jack. “This is why you’re my favorite son. You never break my rules.”

            Jack felt his cheeks heating up, and he mumbled, “C’mon, you’re embarrassing me….”

            Mark chortled from the opposite sofa. “Well we all knew it!” he proclaimed. “Say, Jack, when’re you gonna tell her the other big news?”

            Jack’s blush worsened, and Thomas glanced between them confusedly. “What other news…?” he asked warily.

            “Well…I-I was gonna let you do it,” Jack stammered. “Since they are your family and all.”

            Mark rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “Some favorite son.” He stood up and stretched languidly, not having a worry in the world, and crossed over to sit next to Jack on the couch instead. Thomas and his mother were both staring at him uncomprehendingly.

            “Don’t look at me like that, it’s good news, it’s good,” Mark waved off, and they seemed to relax a little. “Guys, we have an even _bigger_ announcement.”

            “Bigger than ‘Jack hit the lotto?’ Really?!” Thomas said in amazement.

            “Yup, I’d say so.” Out of nowhere, he grabbed Jack’s hand, and immediately his mother’s face lit up. “Looks like Mom already knows. Jack and I are finally together, guys. It’s official now.” He squeezed Jack’s hand, and the two of them smiled at each other just as Mark’s mother started squealing.

* * *

            “So how long has this been going on?”

            “Since last night, Mom.”

            “And you didn’t call me?!”

            “Well I knew I’d be seeing you today! I wanted to make the reveal bigger.”

            “Yeah, it was big all right,” Thomas half-chuckled, and Mark smirked at him as he helped his mother set the table with beef stew and bowls of mashed potatoes. They all sat down, and as soon as Jack was given the go-ahead he dug straight in. The Fischbach household had always been a hot spot for good food, and Jack remembered coming over as often as he could as a teenager just to get a taste of it.

            “So, Jack, how’s the rest of your family?” Mark’s mother asked. He swallowed the enormous bite he’d already taken.

            “They’re pretty good,” he said, wiping his mouth with a napkin. His parents had moved back to Ireland after a few years of living in the U.S., mostly because they’d decided that they missed their old life too much to stay. Jack, however, had been more than happy to stay if it meant he could keep attending an American college. He sometimes used to regret not leaving, but due to recent events he was more than happy that he did.

            “Have you told them about your winnings or your relationship yet?”

            “Nah, not yet. I probably will tomorrow,” he answered causally.

            “I’m sure they’ll be absolutely delighted,” she said cheerfully. “So how did it all come about? I _always_ knew this would happen.”

            “Really? Always?” Mark chuckled, and she nodded.

            “Of course I did! We all did, honey. We used to place little bets on when you were going to realize it for yourself.”

            Jack choked on his drink, and he set it down quickly so that he wouldn’t spew water everywhere. “You used to _what_?”

            Thomas snorted. “Yeah…it was never serious, but it was always fun.” He grinned at Mark’s shocked expression. “Oh, don’t look so surprised. I always bet that you guys’d _never_ tell, so I always won…C’mon, Mark, where’d you think I was always getting extra money from?”  
            “ _That’s where it came from_?! I thought you were going around _stealing_ it!”

* * *

            After a delicious dinner (that even Jack had to admit beat five bags of turkey jerky by a long shot), they all gathered in the living room to play Clue and listen to some of Thomas’s old Frank Sinatra CD’s. When Jack teased him about it, he just said, “Shut up, Sinatra was one of the greatest of his time.” Jack wasn’t laughing anymore when Thomas kicked everyone’s ass in three rounds of Clue.

            “Ah, _fu_ —I mean, forget this game,” Mark swore eventually, stopping himself just in time when his mother gave him a hard look. “I’ll be right back, it’s probably time to move the laundry.” He stood up to go downstairs, and his mother was hot on his heels.

            “Let me help you,” she stated, walking past him. “The last time you filled up the laundry by yourself you flooded the basement.”

            Mark groaned. “I was _fifteen_!” He followed her down into the basement. They could hear him faintly proclaiming, “I’ve done my laundry _plenty_ of times since then!”

            It was just Jack and Thomas now. The former began to clean up the coffee table, listening to Frank Sinatra’s _I’ve Got You Under My Skin_ waft in the background.

            “Hey, Jack, can we talk for just a sec?” Thomas said suddenly, still sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the game.

            Jack nodded. “Sure, what’s up?”

            “So how strong are your feelings for Mark?”

            Jack stopped, glancing up in surprise. His brow furrowed at the bluntness of the question.

            “Uh…I guess I’d say they’re pretty strong,” he said confusedly. “Like, I’ve been into him for as long as I can remember.”

            “So this isn’t just another one of your passive flings?”

            Jack stared at Thomas, unable to keep from feeling at least a little offended. The other mans’ face remained completely passive and casual, as though he were asking Jack about his dinner plans.

            “No…what’s that even supposed to mean?”

            “I don’t mean anything by it, I’m sorry if I offended you,” Thomas stated, leaning closer. He didn’t look particularly sorry. “I’m just trying to look out for my baby brother and make sure you’re not gonna break his heart.”

            “Well of course I’m not. I wouldn’t exactly consider myself a heart _breaker_ in the first place.”

            “I dunno, Jack. You’ve kind of been around….”

            “I didn’t end those relationships, _they_ did!”

            Thomas shrugged. “All right, fair enough.” He stood up, his hands stuffed nonchalantly in his pockets. “But let me just make this clear, all right? If he gets back to me saying you hurt him, we’re gonna have a problem.”

            Jack stood up, too, feeling himself beginning to blush. “Thomas, I’m not here to use your brother and discard him like a friggin’ _prostitute_ ,” he remarked, and even Thomas’s eyes widened at the frankness of the statement. “I’m in love with him. I have been for a long time.”

            The corner of his mouth twitched, and suddenly Thomas couldn’t stop himself from half-smiling.

            “I know you are. You both have been. He used to call me at, like, two in the fucking morning while I was in college just to talk to me about it.”

            Jack’s blush deepened. “He…he did?”

            “Yeah, especially during your senior year. He had it bad for you, Jack.”

            “Wow…holy crap.” Jack rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes lowering in embarrassment. “Why didn’t he tell me?”

            “He was scared you’d reject him. You mean the whole fucking world to him.” Thomas bent down a little so that he was in Jack’s field of vision. “Which is why I’m making sure you’re not gonna let him down.”

            Jack nodded. He understood where Thomas was coming from. Even though he was the youngest of his siblings, he’d had similar chats with many of his sisters’ potential suitors back in the day.

            “I understand,” he told Thomas levelly. “He means the whole fuckin’ world to me, too.”

            Thomas’s smile widened, and he slugged Jack on the shoulder playfully. “That’s what I like to hear.”

* * *

            Shortly after Mark and his mother returned from the basement, Thomas got a phone call from work and had to retire for the night. The remaining three watched TV for a while, but soon Mark’s mother was yawning and had to admit defeat. She hugged them both goodnight and made them promise to stay for breakfast tomorrow morning.

            As soon as she left, Jack opened his mouth to say something, but Mark’s phone rang. He fished it out of his pocket and chuckled at the caller ID.

            “Who is it?” Jack asked.

            “Our old friend,” Mark said amusedly, holding the phone to his ear. “Hey Ma, what’s up? You’ve gotta start calling at more opportune times…nah, I wasn’t asleep this time. We’re up in Ohio visiting my family…yeah, of course we told them. They were happy for us…thanks, I appreciate that…sure, we’ll stop by on our way home if you want. We just might need some directions, I don’t remember exactly how I got there…all right, thanks, I’ll write down the address. I’ll see you soon, Ma—hey, wanna say hi to Jack?”

            He passed the phone over while he got a pen and paper, and Jack grinned widely into the receiver. “Hey Ma!”

            “Hey hon! Are you enjoying Ohio?”

            “Of course I am! I love Mark’s family, they’re like my second home.”

            “That’s so sweet. I’m so glad they were happy to hear the news.”

            “I knew they would be. I can’t believe I did it! _Are you proud of me, Ma_?!”

            Charlene laughed. “I’m more than proud,” she said fondly. Mark sat back down again. “All right, you boys had best be getting to sleep. I know I’m headed that way.”

            “Don’t worry, we will. G’night, Ma.”

            “Goodnight, hon. Sweet dreams.”

            Jack hung up and handed the phone to Mark. “What did you mean by ‘more opportune times?’” he asked. Mark blushed a little.

            “Remember that night I didn’t get much sleep because a telemarketer called me at six a.m.?”

            “Yeah?”

            “I lied about that, it was her. She’d wanted to know if I’d told you the truth yet.”

            Jack was so shocked he burst out laughing. “She did that to me at the gas station!” he said breathlessly. “Damn meddlin’ old woman…I love her.”

            The Frank Sinatra CD rolled over onto its last song, and as soon as Mark heard the trumpets’ intro his eyes lit up.

            “I know this one,” he said excitedly, jumping up. He extended a hand to Jack.

            “What’re you doin’?” Jack asked, taking his hand cautiously. Mark yanked him to his feet and immediately wrapped his other arm around his waist.

            “I know it’s no Disney karaoke,” the former said, suddenly sheepish, “…but will you dance with me?”

_Someday, when I'm awfully low_

_When the world is cold_

_I will feel a glow just thinking of you_

_And the way you look tonight_

            Jack’s heart practically melted, and he nodded wordlessly because suddenly he had no idea what to say. Mark put his other hand on his waist, and Jack, unused to letting someone else lead, put his hands awkwardly on his shoulders. Mark chuckled.

            “You’re supposed to wrap them around my neck, dummy.”

            “Sorry, I’m not used to this.” He corrected himself, and Mark began swaying them from side to side to the beat.

_Yes, you're lovely, with your smile so warm_

_And your cheeks so soft_

_There is nothing for me but to love you_

_And the way you look tonight_

            “Thomas used to play this song whenever he had girls over,” Mark half-chuckled, meeting Jack’s gaze. His eyes were so intensely beautiful and endearing that Jack became overwhelmed and had to look away, choosing instead to look at his throat.

            “I get it, so it’s tradition,” he joked. “Y’know, he gave me the whole ‘don’t hurt my baby brother’ talk a few minutes ago.”

            “Jesus Christ, did he really?” Mark groaned. “I told him not to.”

            “It’s fine, I understood. I don’t really have a pristine track record.” Jack glanced up, and they locked eyes again. “I’m kind of a risky guy to be with, y’know….”

            “Risk makes life fun,” Mark countered. “Your track record doesn’t bother me, Jack. I know what I’m getting into.”

            Jack blushed, and he looked down again. He gasped a little when he felt Mark’s lips on his forehead.

_Lovely ... Never, never change_

_Keep that breathless charm_

_Won't you please arrange it?_

            “ _’Cause I love you…just the way you look tonight._ ” Mark began to sing along under his breath. He began to sway them a little slower, and he took one of his hands and stroked Jack’s cheek with it, and suddenly Jack feared that he might float away. His eyes fluttered shut, and he leaned into his boyfriend’s hand.

            “What happens when we get home?” Jack asked out of the blue. He opened his eyes, and their foreheads were touching. He could barely think straight enough to express his thoughts, but he managed, “What happens when our lives go back to normal?”

            “What do you mean?” Mark asked confusedly. “We go back to our lives the way they always were, except now you’re rich and I’m gay and we’re in love.”

            “Well we were always in love,” Jack chuckled, and Mark blushed adorably.

            “Even better. Then we can skip all the awkward beginning stuff in a relationship and get right to the good parts.” He pulled him closer and kissed his jaw, and Jack’s eyes closed with a small sigh of contentment.

            “I’m probably gonna get a new apartment,” he murmured, though it was nearly impossible to make plans with Mark’s lips on his throat. “’Cause, y’know…my current one’s a piece of shite.”

            “Yeah, I know. You could always stay at my place until you find a new one.”

            “That’d be good, thank you.”

            There was a beat of silence, and then Mark added, “Or you could just stay with me…like, indefinitely. Y’know, if you want.”

            Jack chuckled, and Mark straightened up to look him in the eye.

            “Thank you, Mark. I was really hopin’ you’d offer.”

            “Oh, thank God you said yes.” Mark smiled vulnerably. “I was scared you’d say thanks but no thanks.”

            “Don’t be ridiculous. I practically live at your place already, anyway. I might as well make it official.”

            “I’ll make a spare bed,” Mark teased, and his hands worked their way onto Jack’s back, making him shiver. “Or, y’know…not.”

            “I like not. Not sounds good,” Jack stammered, and Mark laughed.

_Lovely ... Don't you ever change_

_Keep that breathless charm_

_Won't you please arrange it? 'Cause I love you_

_a-just the way you look tonight_

            The song began to slow down, and Mark held Jack close. He sang the last line inches away from his mouth.

            “ _Mm…mm…just the way you look…tonight…_ ” And he kissed him again, one last time in the evening twilight of his living room, dancing inches away from the coffee table, both of them in the wrinkled clothing they’d driven all the way from Chicago in.

            But somehow, for Jack, it had become the most perfect paradise anywhere in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOLY CRAP! A month and 109 pages later (!!!), this fic is finally done. I feel like I need to cut a ribbon or something.
> 
> I'll admit, there were times when I wanted to give up on this one, or just rush it to the end so that I didn't have to write it anymore. I'm really glad I didn't. Even though it's a style that I'm not really used to (rather than having one central plot, there were multiple little scenes with one underlying love story; almost like a TV show, really), I enjoyed writing it and experimenting with it. I'm incredibly happy that you guys enjoyed it so much, because this fic was kind of risky due to how long it was and the fact that there isn't any smut in it, obviously.
> 
> So I just wanna say thank you so much for sticking with this fic, regardless of whether or not you've been here since the beginning or just now stumbling upon it. I appreciate you being here to listen to my stupid ramblings so much. You have no idea how much you guys boost my confidence, and I can't wait to keep writing for you!
> 
> Well, as always, comments and constructive criticism are always appreciated! Just please be polite. :)


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